The Town With Darkness
by DarkStuffHappens
Summary: There's a much darker underbelly to Riverdale & Jughead is part of it. FP's quite a bit meaner in this version of Riverdale but thank god Betty's there to pick up the pieces. This will definitely be an ongoing fic but there will be violence, abuse, underground fight clubs, and lots of hurt/comfort Bughead.
1. Chapter 1: Fight Club

_{A.N. I haven't posted a story on here in like forever but after bingeing the crap out of Riverdale all I really want in life is a little big of h/c Jugheadwhump (don't we all?). So here's a little bit of a "What if FP really was the worst father around" story. And hey, if you like where this is heading, review and tell me! I've got plenty more where this came from...}_

 **Chapter 1: Fight Club**

Shoulders and elbows jostled him roughly as Jughead pushed through the sweaty, heaving throng of bikers, purposefully-lost jocks and just plain dodgy-looking barflies. Just before he made it to the centre, a hand grabbed the back of his neck.

"Make me proud son," FP Jones growled.

Jughead shook off his father's heavy hand and wrinkled his nose at the bittersweet smell of whiskey on his breath. "You got it, Dad," he shot back sardonically.

"Win or don't bother coming home tonight, I've got a lot riding on this," FP warned giving Jughead a push towards the centre stopping any chance of Jughead replying to him.

Jughead rolled his eyes but loosened his shoulders up with a few rolling shrugs now that he was in the centre of the crowd. It was hot in the basement of the Whyte Wyrm and Jughead had already stripped off his flannel shirt and was down to his boots, black jeans and a white singlet. He cracked his knuckles - he was ready to go. He rarely got nervous before these fights anymore. To be honest, it wasn't the fight that made him anxious, it was facing his father afterwards if he lost. That had only happened twice and the memories of those occasions were seared into his brain.

He could see the crowd parting across from him and stepping into the ring was a guy who looked about twice his size. What's more, he was wearing a leather jacket emblazoned with a dirty-looking scorpion - a bikie from a different motorcycle gang. Jughead was momentarily surprised that FP even let rival bikies in the Whyte Wyrm. The guy shed his jacket and passed it to another biker and walked into the makeshift ring.

"This is the best the Scorpions could do?"

Jughead spun around to see his Dad scoffing at his opponent. "You gotta be joking," he said under his breath but he knew better than to tell FP to shut up.

"We got someone bigger than Stinger but we figured we'd go easy on your son Jones," said the guy holding 'Stinger's' leather jacket. That was a most inventive name for a Scorpion bikie, Jughead thought, rolling his eyes.

"Go as hard as you want, he can take you," FP spat back. A shiver ran down Jughead's spine at his father's words. Yeah, sure he could take Stinger. If he could survive FP getting wasted on whiskey and coming home wanting to belt something, he could survive Stinger.

"Alright gentlemen, you know the rules," said Python, a beast of a man and FP's Second-In-Command, stepping in between Stinger and Jughead. "Keep it civil. No weapons. First one to hit the deck and not get up loses."

"Got it," Stinger smirked at Jughead. He shoved his right hand into his jeans pocket and Jughead frowned at the action.

"And...engage," Python said, quickly stepping back into the crowd.

Stinger immediately pulled his right hand out and sucker punched Jughead right in the gut. With brass knuckles. Jughead got the breath knocked out of him so hard and so painfully he immediately fell to his knees, one arm wrapped around his middle.

"Brass"- he tried to say but was cut off by a sharp cough. Luckily for him, Stinger wasn't going to kick him while he was down, at least not right after that first punch. Instead he'd gone over to his Scorpion friend who'd slapped him on the back with a triumphant laugh. But before Jughead could get his breath back, Stinger stalked back to him.

"Can't you get up?" he asked as the crowd jeered around them.

"Screw you, you're a goddamn cheater," Jughead snarled, still on his knees in front of the huge biker.

"Watch me win this fight boy," Stinger said. "In one hit."

Then, without warning he drew his right arm back and backhanded Jughead so violently he was thrown right to the edge of the circle. Fortunately this time he hit the knees of a couple of Serpents who grabbed his arms and pulled him to his feet, not wanting to incur the ire of Jughead's father. Jughead's vision swam and he staggered, the only reason he stayed on his feet was the arms of the Serpents holding him there. He shook the black spots from his eyes and stared Stinger down.

"Only my Dad's allowed to do that to me," Jughead said, his tone dropping to a murderous low. He scanned the crowd before shouting hoarsely, "Python! He's wearing brass knuckles!"

Python pushed through the crowd and grabbed Stinger's shoulder while Jughead gingerly felt his right cheek. He had a sharp cut on his cheekbone that stung - blood was already trickling from it - and from his newly split lip but nothing felt broken. Even so, he was for once thankful for the Serpents, for them picking him up off the ground. It'd only take a couple more hits with those brass knuckles to knock him out cold. In fact, it was a fluke that his backhand hadn't rendered him unconscious.

Jughead was also thanking his lucky stars right now that he had a couple minutes to himself while Stinger was given a stern talking-to by Python and getting his brass knuckles confiscated. His eyes started moving towards the crowd and the wooden staircase at the back of the basement that led upstairs. A girl started walking down them, her clean blue jeans and white shirt looking tremendously out of place for the Whyte Wyrm. As soon as her face and blonde ponytail came into view Jughead felt sick.

It was Betty Cooper.


	2. Chapter 2: Suicide Blonde

_{A.N. Oh my god you guys thanks for the reviews! To clarify, Betty and Jughead aren't dating just yet but there's definitely something between them...}_

 **Chapter 2: Suicide Blonde**

"What the hell," Jughead breathed as she made eye contact with him. He suddenly felt like throwing up and not from Stinger's brass knuckled punch to his gut a moment ago. No, this was the last thing he needed - for anyone to know he was fighting for money in the dirty, dank basement of the Serpents-controlled dive bar on the south side of town. The second-to-worst thing in the whole crappy situation was that Betty didn't look too surprised. She just looked disappointed. The worst thing was that she didn't leave. In fact, she descended the rest of the stairs and stood next to the makeshift bar on the raised end of the basement so she could overlook the fight without getting caught up in the crowd.

"Jughead?"

Jughead snapped his attention back to the fight and to Python who'd called him over.

"Stinger says he's very sorry for using the brass knuckles. Won't happen again. You can forfeit the fight and we'll call it a draw or you can keep going. Up to you," Python said. his eyebrows raised in question.

Jughead risked a glance over to his father. His face was unreadable but Jughead knew that if the fight ended in a draw, FP would simply get back the money he'd bet on his son, instead of doubling it if Jughead won. And then there wouldn't have been much point in getting beat up with brass knuckles in the first place.

"Nah," he said with a sigh and a resigned shake of his head, "I'll keep going. I've got this far."

"Your choice kid," Python said. "Over to you two."

Python stepped back and this time Jughead could see Stinger was seething. Angry guys were generally easier to beat than focused guys. But Stinger was still huge - towering over Jughead and at least twice his weight - it was going to take immense amounts of ingenuity instead of pure force to beat him.

Stinger came at him, swinging but Jughead ducked and then punched him in the side. Stinger growled and swung again, narrowly missing Jughead's jaw. Jughead clocked him one right in the nose and if Stinger was angry before, now he was furious. Before Jughead could dart away again, the huge biker simply reached out, striking as fast as his motorcycle gang's namesake and grabbed a fistful of Jughead's black hair and jerked him closer, eliciting a cry of pain from Jughead.

"Get off me!" Jughead shouted, clawing at Stinger's hand. His scalp stung so painfully but it was nothing compared to the fist that Stinger buried into his ribs. Jughead gasped, winded, and Stinger punched him again in what felt like the exact same spot and then a third time. Between the agony in his scalp and the crushing pain in his ribs, Jughead started seeing stars. The crowd was shouting at them and one voice stood out to him - his father's. He suddenly felt cold and shivery all over. He needed to win this fight, Jughead realised with a freezing jolt of terror in the pit of his stomach. If he lost and his father laid into him, well after Stinger's treatment, thought Jughead, he might not actually survive.

Stinger landed a fifth punch to his side then pulled Jughead even closer to his body, spinning him around so his back was pressed up against Stinger's chest. The huge biker didn't waste any time wrapping an arm around his neck in a choke hold. Jughead couldn't get in any air as he struggled against Stinger's hold. This was it, this was how he would lose for the third time, Jughead thought as he started seeing black spots in his vision. He had the morbid idea to just let Stinger keep choking him, maybe even just let himself go to the darkness. But one bright spot in that darkness made his self-preservation kick in. That one bright spot with blonde hair and deep blue eyes.

Suddenly Jughead's oxygen-deprived brain had a better idea. He kicked backwards and his boot connected with Stinger's knee. He heard a sickening crack and Stinger howled in pain behind him. Immediately both of them were on the ground, Stinger with his hands holding his ruined knee and Jughead on all fours gulping in lungfuls of air.

"You bastard!" Stinger roared at him but Jughead ignored it. Instead he waited until he'd gotten his breath back before taking his opportunity and striking Stinger right across the face, knocking him out in an instant.

"I think we have a winner," Python announced stepping back into the circle. He grabbed Jughead's arm and hauled him to his feet. Jughead's knees almost buckled but another Southside Serpent grabbed his other arm, supporting him while he breathed heavily. "Jughead Jones is your winner tonight, gentlemen! Time to pay up on those bets, heaven help anyone who'd bet _against_ FP Jones's son!"

Jughead breathed out an audible sigh of relief at Python's words. He'd all but forgotten about Betty but when he looked up finally, he immediately spotted her, sitting at the bar, biting her bottom lip, her hands clenched in tight, unforgiving fists.

 _{A.N. What do you guys think? I'll be posting a new chapter really soon - let me know what you want to see...}_


	3. Chapter 3: The Awful Truth

**Chapter 3: The Awful Truth**

"Alright, I'm fine, let me go," Jughead said, shrugging his arms out of the grip of the Serpent and Python. He staggered over to the bar, the crowd parting easily.

"Nice work, kiddo, thought he had you beat for a second there," said the bartender, who was actually pretty short but made up for it with a menacing scorpion tattoo across half his face. "Winner's drinks are on the house. Jack and coke?"

"Whatever you've got going," Jughead said noncommittally. "And some ice would be great."

"Comin' right up!"

Jughead knew Betty was looking at him intently but to be honest, after that fight, he really wasn't in the mood for talking. But he knew she was dying to ask him about it so he figured he'd just waited her out. It didn't take long.

"Jughead?" she just about whispered. "Are you okay?"

He turned to her, leaning on the bar. "Betty, what are you doing here? It's dangerous for you to be here."

"And it's not dangerous for you?" she replied back, incredulously. "You just got the crap beaten out of you by a gang member."

"Betty," he said in a conspiratorial whisper, "you do realise you're in a _gang's dive bar_ right this second?"

"Yes I do and I know about your father and the Serpents but what the hell Jughead? You could've gotten yourself killed."

The bartender took that moment to deposit what looked like a short glass full of Jack Daniels with about a teaspoon of coke in it and a tea towel full of ice cubes.

"Thanks," Jughead said, picking up the tea towel and pressing it against his face where Stinger's brass knuckles had hit him. He winced at the cold and the pain in his cheekbone but held it there regardless.

"Betty, I need to tell you something and you need to promise me you're not going to tell anyone, can you promise me that?" Jughead said, his blue eyes almost boring holes into her's.

"Uh...okay?" she frowned at him. He could tell she was thinking she'd bit off more than she could chew but Jughead knew her inner journalist simply _had_ to know what he was going to tell her.

"Alright, hold on just one tick," Jughead said. He grabbed his drink and downed it in one gulp, relishing the fiery warmth it brought to his throat and stomach. Then he grabbed his flannel shirt and beanie which he'd left behind the bar earlier. "Follow me."

He shot a wary glance out to the crowd of bikers and brawlers and got his father's eye. FP gave him a nod and held up the wad of cash he'd just won, betting on his own son in a bareknuckle boxing match. Jughead jerked his head in the direction of the stairs and FP nodded again, turning back to the Serpent he'd been talking to.

Jughead got to the stairs and almost gasped as taking the first step pulled on injured muscles in his ribs. But he powered through, pushing himself up and away from the basement and the blood and pain that it always brought him. The two of them emerged into the main room of the Whyte Wyrm. The crowd was much thinner up here, just a few older bikers who weren't keen on the fights happening downstairs. One of them, a guy who looked to be in his 60's with a long grey beard called out to him.

"You win?"

"Sure did," Jughead said, for the first time noticing how scratchy and hoarse his voice was after Stinger's chokehold.

He kept going, straight out the front door of the Wyrm. It was much quieter out on the street. The row of motorbikes seemed to stretch on forever as the two of them walked alongside them and then beyond them, up to a dusty pickup truck. Jughead wasn't really sure who owned it but he'd often seen Serpents use it so he figured they wouldn't be bothered. He opened the passenger side door for Betty and then walked around to the driver's side, getting in with a hiss of pain from his damaged ribs.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Betty asked him again.

"I never said I was okay," Jughead replied but his voice wasn't mean. He just sounded exhausted. And beat, which technically he almost had been. "But it would've been worse if I'd lost."

"Well, _yeah_ ," Betty replied. Jughead could tell she was confused.

"You said you know about my father - what do you know?"

"That he's a member of the Serpents motorcycle gang," Betty replied. Jughead could hear the trepidation in her voice. This was why he didn't like getting too close to anyone. As soon as they found out about FP, or really as soon as they took one look at him - his loose hoodies, heavy boots, the beanie which was a permanent fixture - they immediately avoided him like the plague or gave him shit about. So far Archie was the only person who'd proved to him there could be a middle ground.

"That's all you know?" Jughead asked and at Betty's nod he sighed, grimacing as the movement agonised his ribs and stomach where Stinger's brass knuckles had hit him first. "Alright, this is the bit I don't want you spilling to anyone, got it?" Betty nodded again. "So yeah, you already know that my dad's in the Serpents. What you don't know is that, not only is he part of the gang - he's the leader of them."

"What?" Betty whispered, shocked.

"Crazy, I know, believe me," Jughead said without a hint of humour in his tone. "Now I don't wanna know why you came tonight or if you're planning on doing a story for the school paper about the Southside Serpents but please, for the love of God, _don't_."

"But what they're doing here is illegal, Jughead," she protested softly. She reached out to touch his face but drew her hand back when he flinched away with a whispered "Sorry".

"I'm doing it too don't forget," he said, trying to brush off his flinch. The one thing he'd been wishing for someone like Betty to touch him. To _want_ to touch him. Not just avoid him in the hallways but to do the exact opposite. He hadn't realised lately how much he'd wanted Betty - her determination and drive throughout this whole Jason Blossom investigation was infectious. And her smile was, well, if Jughead was being completely honest and as sappy as his inherent sarcasm and cynicism would allow, it would light up anything. He was snapped back to reality when she spoke - with definitely not a trace of that smile.

"Why? Why would you put yourself through something like that. He could've killed you."

"But he didn't," Jughead replied quickly, a corner of his mouth lifting in a smile. "And he probably won't try again if he knows what's good for him."

"He didn't this time," Betty said. "What about next time or the time after that? How long have you been doing this?"

"Since this summer," Jughead admitted, wrapping his free arm around his aching midsection. "Archie blew off our road trip and my dad dragged me along to my first one that day. 4th of July."

"You've been doing this that long? What the hell could possess you to fight like that? Frequently?!" she almost yelled but seemed to remember at the last minute to keep her voice down.

"Damnit Betty!" Jughead said, hating himself for snapping at her but he couldn't help it. His tired brain kept flickering from one thought to another. He wanted to tell her, no _needed_ to. He needed to tell somebody what was happening but at the same time he felt like it would kill him emotionally if he did. He was literally torn, pressed firmly between a rock and a hard place. He dropped the tea towel full of ice onto the dashboard, pulled off his beanie and ran his hand through his messy black hair, wincing - his scalp still hurt from Stinger's manhandling of him earlier. "I don't have a choice. Do you think I'd do this if I didn't have to? You think I'm that crazy? That freakin' stupid?" he replied, forcing himself to keep his voice from raising throughout, although his actual words belied how painted-into-a-corner he felt right now.

"I'm sorry Jughead," she said quickly, her voice small and defeated.

"No, no, don't apologise," Jughead said, taking a deep breath despite the pain in his ribs. He needed to calm down. Getting worked up and angry at Betty wouldn't fix anything.

"Tell me why so I can understand," Betty asked, although it wasn't really a question.

"My dad makes me do it," Jughead replied, resignedly. "The fights I mean."

"What do you mean, makes you?"

"He's...look, he's not going to be in the running for Father of the Year anytime soon, Betty," Jughead said. He really, _really_ didn't want to get into the exquisitely crap details of his home-life right now with Betty. But that part of him, that closed-off, walled up part of him was fighting tooth and nail right now with the part of him that wanted to tell her everything.

"Jughead, please, just tell me what's going on?"

Jughead could only look into Betty's pleading eyes for a moment before he gave in with a drawn-out sigh. He was too exhausted and too beat down, literally and figuratively right now to fight back any longer.

"My dad makes me do it like he makes me do a whole heap of things Betty," Jughead started. He had to take another deep breath to continue and his hands tightened into fists, his fingernails digging into his palms. "He...If I don't do what he says he uh...or if I argue with him, he just...I don't know. He just loses it. I mean, come on, he's the leader of the Southside Serpents for God's sake. He's not cut out to be a father. He just, I guess he just treats me like he'd treat someone in his gang who didn't toe the line."

"And how does he treat people in his gang who don't toe the line?" Betty asked.

Jughead huffed out a quick breath. "You're gonna be a great journalist one day, you know that?"

"Answer the question, Jughead," Betty replied softly. "How does he treat them?"

"With uh...with violence, I guess would be the short answer," Jughead's voice dropped considerably in volume as he replied. He immediately felt uncomfortable, felt like Betty was studying him, picking him apart and noticing his every flaw.

"So he hits you?"

"Y-yeah," Jughead whispered, hating how his voice cracked slightly.

"Does he hit you a lot?"

"Uh...I don't know, Betty, what's _a lot_ in your book?" Jughead asked, frustrated.

"Once a week? Everyday?"

"Well he...I mean, I don't _see_ him everyday," Jughead said, unsure of what to even say. He ran a hand through his hair again - it was becoming a nervous tic. "I guess he's probably a little rougher with me then he should be just generally."

"And what happens when he's angry or drunk or if you argue with him?" Betty asked gently.

"Well, I guess you could say that's when he really goes to town on me," Jughead said with a short mirthless laugh.

"Enough beating around the bush Jughead, what does he _do_ to you?" Betty questioned, her voice growing stronger as Jughead kept evading her.

"Fine, fine, I'll tell you everything you want to know, all the nitty, gritty little details of how my own father _abuses_ me," Jughead replied in a hushed but frustrated voice, pinpricks piercing the corners of his eyes as unwanted tears threatened to spill, "is that what you want? You want to know that he backhands me if I wake him up in the mornings when I leave to go to school? Haven't you noticed the odd bruise here and there? Bit strange, considering I don't play _any_ contact sport, right? Or maybe you want to know about how he punched me right in the gut this afternoon cause I told him I didn't feel like fighting tonight? Then there's always my personal favourite, when I lose a fight or when I really fuck up, his go-to move is to pull off his belt and whip me with it. The reason why you've never seen me without a shirt on is cause my back is covered in welts pretty much _all the time_. Would you like to know more?"

"Not right now," Betty said, "Jughead, I'm so"

"Please don't pity me," Jughead said, looking up at her. He knew those tears were begging to be shed but he didn't want to cry in front of her. He hardly ever let himself cry. People dying, Jason Blossom being shot - murdered - _that_ was something to cry about. Not a deadbeat dad who hit him when he was angry. "I don't really think I could handle that right now. You don't need to say sorry."

"But I am, Jughead," Betty said softly.

"Don't be," Jughead said with a sigh, "I...jeez, Betty, _I'm_ sorry I told you all that. I...I shouldn't have gone so far. You don't need to know this. At the risk of sounding pathetically poetic, I've already lost my innocence - the last thing I want it to take your's as well. Most of the time it's my fault anyway."

"Hey, you know nothing you could do deserves that sort of treatment," Betty said, she placed her hand on his forearm so gently he almost didn't feel it. "You know that right?"

"Yeah, I guess. I'm pretty sure father's aren't supposed to belt their sons when they lose an illegal, underground bareknuckle fight, I'm not an idiot, you know. But it's...hard. I know he cares about me, he's just got a funny way of showing it," Jughead said. His words were at once shocking and heartbreaking - he could see it reflected on Betty's face - but he was tired of this conversation. He'd told her what was going on, he just wanted to move past it right at this moment. "Anything else you want to know?" he repeated his earlier question but he was much calmer now.

"Not right now," she replied, echoing her earlier words. "But if you ever, ever need a place to stay, just call me, alright?"

"You really think your Mum's going to be happy with the son of a Serpent staying at her place?" Jughead raised his eyebrows.

"We've got a backdoor with a broken lock and she works late most nights at the Register what with Jason and...everything, she wouldn't even know you're there, I promise," Betty said. She reached for his face again and Jughead closed his eyes willing himself not to flinch again, gritting his teeth when she picked up the tea towel with ice and placed it against the cut on his cheek. He placed his hand over her's. "You'd be safe there."

"That'd be something new and different," Jughead said. Exhaustion was really starting to set in, he needed to get home. So did Betty. "How are you getting home?"

"I drove here, I parked just a bit further down the road," Betty said. "More importantly, how are _you_ getting home?"

"I, uh, I guess I was going to walk," Jughead said.

"You're not serious? After that fight?"

"Well I wasn't expecting that asshole to have brass knuckles," Jughead said simply. "Silly me."

"Forget it. I'll give you a lift," Betty said passing the tea towel back to Jughead and grabbing the door handle.

"No!" Jughead all but shouted. "Sorry, no, really it's fine. I don't want you going there."

"Jughead, at this point, I really don't care what your home looks like," Betty said opening the car door and jumping out. She stalked around to his side and opened the driver's door. "You've just been beaten to a pulp so I'm driving you home whether you like it or not. Now, get out of the car."

amie raised his eyebrows at her words but nodded, grabbing the tea towel with the ice. "Doesn't sound like I get a say in the matter, does it?" he said.

"Nope," Betty said with a small smile.

He grabbed the top of the open driver's door and stepped out of the pickup. The movement, after so long sitting still, tore so painfully at bruised muscles and potentially cracked ribs that he buckled at the knees with a gasp.

"Jughead!" Betty grabbed his shoulders and crouched down next to him. "Oh my god, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Jughead said through gritted teeth. He wrapped an arm around his midsection, trying to push down the agony that radiated out from the damage Stinger had caused. And, to be honest, if everything else that happened that night _hadn't happened_ , he probably would've been fine. That was before the slimy, grating voice swung out from behind them, startling both Jughead and Betty.

"Kid, you are so far from fine."

 _{A.N. Oh cliffhanger! Sorry, I had to do it. Review and let me know if you like it!}_


	4. Chapter 4: The Fighter

_{A.N. Thanks for all the lovely reviews you guys! There's something seriously addictive about picturing Jughead getting a little beaten up, am I right..?}_

 **Chapter 4: The Fighter**

Both Jughead and Betty whipped their eyes up to see Stinger and his Scorpion friend looking down on them. Stinger looked much the worse for wear - his nose was definitely broken and a torn flannel shirt had been tied around his knee. He'd wrapped an arm around his friend but now moved to lean against the pickup Betty and Jughead had just been sitting in.

"It's gonna be a while before I can ride a bike again with this knee," Stinger growled angrily at the two of them. "My friend over here thinks we should teach you a lesson for that."

"You two need to back off right now," Betty said, her voice shaking. "Call it a night and leave us alone."

"Unfortunately Sweetcheeks the world doesn't work like that," Stinger's Scorpion friend said, leering at her.

"Help me up," Jughead whispered to Betty. Without a word she grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. He wavered slightly but stood his ground. "Both of you, get the hell out of here right now. There's a whole goddamn dive bar full of Serpents just waiting to shoot your kneecaps off if you so much as _touch_ FP Jones's son. You realise that don't you?" Jughead was surprised at how strong his voice sounded despite the pain and exhaustion he felt. He blamed it on the adrenaline currently coursing through his body.

"Maybe we just don't care," the Scorpion said. He took a step forward, cracked his knuckles menacingly. "Think I'll go for the girl first, what do you reckon Stinger?"

"I like that course of action," Stinger grunted from the side of the pickup.

"Don't you dare touch her," Jughead hissed, pushing Betty behind him.

"Wait, don't tell me," Stinger said mockingly, "we have to go through you first?"

"Took the words right outta my mouth," Jughead said with a grin, his split lip reopening and sending a trickle of blood down his chin.

"You wanna do the honours?" Stinger asked the other Scorpion while he shoved his hand into his pocket again and pulled out the brass knuckles. Jughead's face dropped and he swallowed nervously as Stinger handed them to his biker friend. "You don't mind if we up the ante do you?"

"Do what you gotta do," Jughead said, his eyes flickering warily over to the Whyte Wyrm to see if any Serpents were outside. The parking lot was full of bikes but devoid of people. "If you don't think you can beat me without brass knuckles then I guess that's something you gotta deal with when you can't sleep at night," Jughead said with a shrug.

"Alright, kid, I think I've had just about enough of you," the Scorpion said, stepping forward.

Jughead pushed Betty away and raised his arms in a defensive position. The Scorpion swung at him and Jughead ducked, wincing as the move pulled on his ribs. He was much slower now and the Scorpion took advantage of it in a big way. Jughead didn't dodge his second punch which landed right in his chest sending Jughead sprawling to the cold, hard ground. One hand on his chest, Jughead groaned in pain, pushing himself away using his legs. But the Scorpion simply walked up to him and kicked him right in the gut. Jughead cried out in pain as he was kicked him a second and a third time.

"P-please," Jughead all but whimpered holding a hand up, breathing hard. It was no use. Neither was Betty screaming at the Scorpion to stop as he kept kicking Jughead.

"Stop! Stop, you'll kill him! Stop!" Betty shouted. She ran up to Jughead's attacker and grabbed his arm but he shook her off easily. She'd been ineffectual against the Scorpion but her screams had gotten the attention of some Serpents in the Whyte Wyrm at last. Within minutes of her screaming at the top of her lungs, a bunch of leather-jacketed thugs exploded from the dive bar and ran down to where the impromptu fight was taking place near pickup.

"What the hell is goin' on here?"

Jughead, who'd been curled up on the ground, covered in dirt, with his arms wrapped around his middle, let out a breath when he heard the rough, male voice. It was the first time in a while he'd been relieved to hear his father.

"He jumped us, FP," the Scorpion said, "and it's not like Stinger can fight back with his knee all screwed up."

"That's _so not_...how it happened," Jughead retorted in between gasps for breath. Betty crouched down next to him, her hand on his shoulder, helping him sit up.

"At this point, I really don't care how it happened," FP said and Jughead saw Betty's jaw drop in shock. He grabbed her arm lightly in warning. "The fights happen _in the basement_. Got it?"

Both Scorpions were silent, looking everywhere except at FP.

"I said, _got it_?" FP repeated, his tone murderous.

"Sure FP, we were leavin' anyway," Stinger said, sounding like a petulant child. "Let's get out of here," he added to his friend.

The two of them - with Stinger hobbling on his bad knee - made a quick getaway and most of the Serpents peeled off to go back to the Whyte Wyrm until only Betty, Jughead and FP remained in lot.

"You alright?" FP asked, a trace of concern present in his voice.

"I will be," Jughead said, getting to his feet with a groan. He wavered on his feet and Betty grabbed him with lightning-fast reflexes.

"Who's your friend?"

"This is...uh Betty," Jughead answered, his gaze firmly fixed on the ground, "Betty Cooper."

"Betty Cooper, as in Alice Cooper?" FP questioned, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"That's my Mom," Betty replied tersely.

"Huh. How 'bout that? Tell your Mom I say hi," FP said with a grin. He didn't elaborate on how he knew Betty's mom and neither Jughead nor Betty stepped in to ask. "You goin' home?"

"Yep," Jughead said with a small nod. "See you there?"

"Not tonight, probably not this whole weekend," FP said matter-of-factly. "Got some stuff to take care of, one town over."

"Alright, well... be careful," Jughead replied weakly.

"Think I should be the one tellin' you that," FP said with a chuckle. "When you're pickin' fights with Scorpions in the parking lot."

"Jughead didn't pick that fight," Betty retorted.

"Betty," Jughead warned under his breath. He knew his father would never hurt Betty. No, what FP would do would involve Jughead being slammed up against the walls of the doublewide later on in retaliation. FP was always up for slapping Jughead around because of something someone else did.

"I like this girl Jughead," FP said, nodding at Betty. "She's got spunk. See ya later."

With that FP spun on his biker boot and strolled back to the dive bar.

"So that's your father huh?" Betty murmured as the two of them started walking towards her car, Jughead's arm over her shoulders as he staggered slightly.

"That's my father," Jughead said resignedly. "He's an acquired taste."

"You can say that again," Betty replied as they reached her car. She unlocked it and opened the passenger side door for Jughead but when she went to help him in, he waved her off.

"I'm fine, really," Jughead sighed, even while wincing at the movement. Betty gave him a pointed look but closed the passenger door without a word and hopped in the driver's seat.

"Let me at least patch you up," she offered.

"No, really I can do it."

"Look Juggie," Betty said, turning in her seat to face him properly. "You might recognise this as my 'no-nonsense voice'. Basically I'm not taking 'no' for an answer this time around okay? I just saw you get the crap beaten out of you not once but _twice,_ not to mention the fact that you told me all of...that about your father as well. You _need_ someone to take care of you. Even if it's just for a few minutes tonight, alright?"

"Jeez, well, when you put it like that Betts, I suppose I have no choice do I?" Jughead said, leaning back and smiling at her.


	5. Chapter 5: The Promise

_{A.N. Hey guys! Thanks for all the lovely reviews! Again let me know if you specifically want anything happening. I've got my own ideas but I'm so happy for suggestions! And for those Bughead shippers...you'll finally see some action! Also sorry for the delay. Confession: I write this at work so I get more done during the week haha!}_

 **Chapter 5: The Promise**

The drive back to the trailer park was mostly silent save for the occasional gasp of pain from Jughead when Betty's car hit a pothole. He leaned on the cold glass of the passenger side window and gazed out at the bristly pines whipping past softly muttering directions when needed. When Betty's car finally bounced over the threshold of the trailer park Jughead's heart sank at the miserable sight of the lot. Thankfully it was pretty deserted, this late on a Friday night but that didn't make the desperation of the place any less obvious.

"Uh...which one?" Betty said.

"That one," Jughead replied pointing to FP's trailer.

Betty pulled the car over near the trailer and got out wrapping her arms around herself against the icy early Fall breeze that cut through the lot. Jughead opened the passenger door and pushed himself up and out with a wince. He led the way over to the doublewide with Betty following close on his uneven steps. He found the key under the empty plant pot like usual at the bottom of the steps and unlocked the door, his nose wrinkling and heart dropping at the smell of hard liquor emanating from within.

To her credit, Betty didn't say anything about his home - nothing derogatory or pitying. She just walked in, looking around the minuscule living quarters and moved to the sofa, shifting the debris from it to the coffee table. "Have you got something I can clean your face with?"

"Betty, really it's"-

"Remember the whole 'not taking no for an answer' conversation?"

"I think there might be a washcloth in the bathroom." Jughead sat down resignedly on the sofa waiting for her to return, not wanting to be there when she saw the condition of the rest of the trailer. Betty returned a moment later with a damp washcloth that had once been white as well as a makeshift first aid kit she'd rustled up from the dwindling supplies in the bathroom.

"Alright, let me clean up your face," Betty said, leaning forward and inspecting the cut on Jughead's cheekbone from those pesky brass knuckles. She dabbed it gently with the damp cloth along with his split lip. They'd long ago stopped stinging sharply every time he moved a muscle in his face but the bruises on his cheek and jaw were definitely sore and would be for a while.

"Thanks Betty," Jughead murmured when she'd finished, his eyes downcast. "You didn't have to do that...but thank you."

"I...I know you're home already but come back with me to my place, you can stay all weekend," Betty suggested.

"What would your mother think?" Jughead replied with a grin, looking up at her.

"I don't care what she thinks. I care about you," Betty said. She raised her hand and ran her fingers through his hair before moving to his neck, then his shoulder.

"You...you do?" Jughead frowned slightly.

"Of course I do," Betty said, leaning in. "I...well, I, uh..."

"Spit it out," Jughead said with a small smile.

"Maybe I should just show you," Betty said. Then to Jughead's complete surprise she kissed him. Initially he jerked away in shock but that only lasted a split second after tasting her cherry-flavoured lipgloss. He kissed her back and their kiss deepened while her hand stroked his hair. Jughead raised his hand to her face and his mouth to her neck, kissing her as if his life depended on it. He hadn't realised how much his seemingly-unrequited love for Betty had grown until he'd finally had the chance to have her in his arms. She leaned her head back slightly, her eyes closed, lips parted as he continued kissing her and her hand moved down to his chest. She inadvertently placed it right where that Scorpion had punched him with brass knuckles. He tensed slightly, but not wanting to ruin the moment, ignored it. Until she accidentally pressed down.

Jughead broke apart from her abruptly with a bitten-back cry of pain, a hand on his chest. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Oh my god, Juggie, _I'm_ sorry," Betty said, looking horrified. "I hurt you."

"Pretty sure I was already hurt," Jughead replied. "Although that kiss did make me feel better."

"Let me take a look at your chest," Betty said, still sounding very contrite.

"Don't you think we're moving a little fast, we only _just_ kissed," Jughead said, one corner of his mouth lifting in what he knew was an adorable smirk.

"I mean it Jughead, you're hurt, I need to know you're going to be okay," Betty placed her hand on his arm and he covered it with his own. He knew she hadn't missed the fact that his knuckles had split open during both fights tonight.

"Betty I promise you, I'm going to be okay," Jughead replied, squeezing her hand gently to push home the point. He knew deep down she wouldn't relent until she'd scanned every mark and scar, every cut and bruise that littered his torso right now. But he also thought of her as the one and only shining, bright light in his world. He didn't want that light dimmed by his problems.

"I believe you but I want to be sure. You could have broken ribs or need stitches."

"How would you even know?" he asked, keeping his tone light.

Betty didn't answer him, she just looked him right in the eye, silently, daring him to keep arguing. After a beat, he sighed in defeat.

"Alright, fine. But on one condition," he said.

"Anything."

"I don't want you going to the cops or the school or the Blue and Gold or your Mom. Or anyone. I don't want anyone knowing," Jughead said, swallowing thickly when he saw Betty's face fall.

"About the fights or your Dad or"-

"About anything," Jughead cut in. "Archie and Kevin know my Dad's in the Serpents but that's it. That's all they know. They know that the jocks don't like me and push me round and that's generally how I explain away the black eyes and split lips."

"But you"-

"But nothing Betty, please, I wanted to - I _needed_ to tell somebody about all of this but I...I'm not really ready for anyone else to know. Especially when there isn't anything anyone can do about it," Jughead said, his head dropping.

"What do you mean? Kevin's Dad is the Sheriff! He can do a whole heap of things!"

"Like what? Get my Dad and half the Serpents arrested? So that I can go live in some foster home that might not even be in town?" Jughead countered but his voice was soft. "Believe me, I've thought of _everything_. The best thing I can do right now is just to stay as safe as I can and just keep... _dealing_ with all this crap that the universe has thrown my way."

Betty was silent but Jughead could see tears brimming in her perfect blue eyes.

"So I'll let you keep on playing Florence Nightingale but you have to just keep this quiet, alright?" Jughead confirmed.

"Fine," Betty relented. "Off with your shirt then."

Jughead smiled at her and he was happy to see Betty's pink lips upturn in a smile of their own. It soon vanished when Jughead pulled his flannel shirt and then the singlet underneath off to reveal his upper body. He knew it probably looked bad, hell it _felt_ bad but he wasn't prepared for Betty's reaction. Immediately tears started to cascade down her cheeks as her eyes raked over his torso.

"Holy crap Jughead, how are you even sitting up right now?" she asked him, her chin wobbling from keeping even more tears at bay.

"Practice?" he tried to joke but it fell flat. He looked down to see exactly what he figured would be there. Dark bruises were already forming in his stomach from that first brass knuckled punch and the Scorpion's kicks in the carpark. On his chest and ribs were more bruises from the fight with Stinger and a cut had opened up on his side - he wasn't sure what that was from.

"This looks really bad, Juggie," Betty said.

"They're just cuts and bruises, nothing's broken," Jughead tried to reassure her.

"How do you know?"

He bit his lip wondering how to answer then just deciding to go for the truth. "Because I've _had_ broken ribs before. They hurt a lot more than this."

"Do I even _want_ to know how you got those?" Betty asked, looking miserable.

"Probably not," Jughead said. It was at that point she noticed the healing welt cutting across his shoulder.

"What's this from?" she asked, reaching out to touch it. Jughead bit his lip. It didn't hurt too much anymore - not with all the other, fresher injuries - but it was still a little sore.

"That's, uh, some of my Dad's handiwork," Jughead admitted.

"Wait, he did _that_ to you?" Betty asked.

"Well technically it was his belt"-

"Oh my god Juggie!" Betty gasped.

"Gotta stop sayin' that Betty, you sound like a broken record," Jughead whispered, although his own voice sounded broken.

"Turn around."

"Betty"-

"Turn around _now_. I want to see what that bastard did to you. What you're _letting_ him do to you," Betty demanded in a quiet yet determined voice.

Jughead wordlessly turned around on the seat of the sofa so Betty could see his back. He winced when he heard her gasp. He knew his back was a mess right now. Three weeks ago he'd lost a fight when the asshole landed a punch that knocked him out almost before Python had said 'Go' and FP had laid into him. Then a week ago he'd gotten to school late - for the fourth time that week - so Weatherbee saw fit to give FP a phonecall about it. FP then saw fit to belt him that night for having to take a phonecall from the principal in the middle of a meeting with a prospective weed dealer. Luckily he didn't have too many scars from FP's treatment, but right now he certainly looked like he might get some new ones.

"Betty I'm not letting him do it, I don't have a choice," Jughead said, turning back to face her. The tears had definitely set in now but she wiped them away. "I don't want to risk having to go to a foster home that's not close by. That's not close to _you_."

"You don't want to say anything because...because of _me_?" Betty asked, her eyebrows raising.

"I just want it kept quiet, if I just put up and shut up, I can stay. I can stay in Riverdale. With you," Jughead added. "I...I didn't know how to say this for so long. I knew you liked Archie and it...killed me when I knew he didn't reciprocate. But I didn't want to push any boundaries. Even just being friends with you was enough. But now that I know you feel the same way, I...It's worth it. So I can stay with you. I don't want to risk it. Please say you understand? Promise me you won't breathe a word of this to anyone?"

Betty's blue eyes looked deeply into Jughead's blue-green ones, he almost felt like she was looking into his soul, her gaze was so strong. But then it softened and she leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"I promise."


	6. Chapter 6: After School Special

**Chapter 6: After School Special**

The rest of that weekend passed by in a blur for Forsyth 'Jughead' Pendleton Jones III. Saturday morning he woke up in a world of pain from the fight the previous night. It seemed as if every muscle in his body was sore, his ribs ached every time he took a breath and the bruises on his face had darkened dramatically. But right now, even as he was suffering physically, he was jumping for joy mentally. Not only was FP away the entire weekend which meant less backhanded slaps for no reason, but Betty had kissed him. Not once but a few times! That elated feeling got Jughead out of bed (at a respectable 12noon on Saturday no less) and off to Pop's to write more pages about Jason Blossom's murder. Saturday night Betty had texted him, asking how his weekend was going and the sight of her name on the screen of his phone made his heart jump for joy.

While Jughead, on the surface was positively brimming with happiness at this one light in his life, deep down he was worried. Betty and her family were respectable - the whole Jason-Polly teen pregnancy thing aside. Her parents worked for the Riverdale Register and were constantly looking put-together in twinsets and sports coats. They were pillars of the community basically and Betty was the star pupil of Riverdale High. Jughead and his family on the other hand? Well they were the complete opposite.

When Sunday evening was drawing to a close, those poisonous thoughts had forced their way to the front of Jughead's mind. Not to mention the fact that he'd have to yet again explain away the bruises on Monday. Jughead had just gotten home from having a burger for dinner at Pop's when FP got home.

"Hey Jughead," he said, thankfully not slurring his words too much at the minute.

"Hey Dad," Jughead replied looking up from the sofa where he'd been once again working on the Jason Blossom thing. He wasn't sure what it was yet - articles? A novel? Whatever it was, it was taking up _a lot_ of his time.

"How's your weekend been?" FP asked, throwing his leather Serpents jacket onto the end of the sofa before walking into the kitchenette to pour himself a generous glass of whiskey.

"Pretty quiet, how about yours?" Jughead said warily. It was a fine line with his father. Sometimes FP would be aggravated by questions about his Serpent dealings. Other times it would incense him when Jughead didn't 'take an interest'.

"It was good," FP replied, taking a swig before sitting down on the sofa next to his son. "What're you workin' on?

Okay, this was starting to get weird, Jughead thought. His Dad didn't usually ask him what _he_ was doing. That wasn't really how their father-son relationship worked. Usually their relationship involved Jughead desperately just trying to preempt FP to avoid getting beaten up. It didn't really involve any actual questions.

"Uh, I'm just writing about Jason Blossom...his murder," Jughead said.

"Now why would you wanna be writin' about that, Jughead?" FP asked and Jughead actually felt a shiver go down his spine at the tone of his father's voice.

"Well, I guess because Riverdale doesn't get all that many murders and this was a kid that I actually knew," Jughead said nervously.

"And who do you think did it?"

"I don't know," he said quickly, almost a little too quickly when he noticed FP's eyebrows raise.

"What if you knew the person who did it?"

"What are you trying to say Dad?" Jughead asked, closing his laptop and putting it aside. It was the only thing he owned that was worth anything - except besides maybe the stupid beanie he wore day in, day out - FP looked like he was gearing up for a fight, he didn't want it getting caught in the crossfire.

FP shifted closer to his son and slapped a hand down on his back. Jughead gasped quietly when his father's heavy hand landed on not-yet-healed welts from his belt but he stayed silent.

"What if your old man had something to do with it? Would you include that in your little story?" FP questioned.

"I don't know Dad, what do you want me to say?" Jughead knew it was always better just to do what his father wanted. So, if he was literally grasping at straws like he was now, it was always a good idea to just _ask_ his father what he wanted.

"I'm not gonna say that I had anything to do with the Blossom kid's death cause I didn't, but regardless, I don't wanna see my name come up in anything written by you or the Blue and Gold."

"You got it Dad," Jughead said evenly.

"That's my boy," FP said, punctuating his words with two hard slaps to Jughead's back making Jughead cry out softly, bite his lip to stop himself and close his eyes momentarily. "Your girl's parents work for the Register. Make sure my name stays out of that too while you're at it."

At that request, Jughead's eyes widened and he looked up at FP. "Dad, pretty sure I don't have that kind of sway."

"I'd work on it if I were you," FP said, squeezing his shoulder, making Jughead wince. "What good is dating their daughter if you can't keep your old man's name out of the paper?"

"I'll work on it, but no promises," Jughead said, knowing he was pushing his luck.

FP moved his hand from Jughead's shoulder and Jughead exhaled, reaching up to rub it gently. "Think about it this way, Jughead, the longer you keep my name out of the Register, the less you'll have to fight at the Wyrm. Wouldn't you like a week without busted ribs?" FP asked before elbowing Jughead in the ribs as he stood up.

Jughead actually groaned in pain that time. His ribs were still in agony from the beatings he'd taken on Friday night, just _breathing_ hurt. He knew now not to push his father tonight. If FP was going to be cruel then it would be safer to just go along with it.

"I'll work on it," Jughead repeated without his previous caveat.

"That's a better answer," FP said, slapping Jughead softly on the face before finishing off his whiskey and pouring himself a new glass.

* * *

The next morning Jughead arrived at school with 30 seconds to spare before the first bell rang and for that he thanked his lucky stars. He pushed open the door to the student lounge hoping to just relax for the free period he had but when he saw Archie notice how messed up his face was he knew that wasn't going to be an option.

"Christ, Jughead, what happened to your face?"

Betty, Veronica and Kevin all had their backs to the door and at once they all spun around to see him walk in, bruises and all.

"Oh my god, Jughead!" Ronnie exclaimed.

Betty thankfully remained silent and Jughead sat down on the sofas with the gang, trying not to appear to move too gingerly lest he let on too much.

"I'm fine you guys," he said with half a smile.

"Jughead, seriously _what happened to you_?" Archie repeated.

"A couple of guys jumped me near my place on Friday night, that's it, honest," Jughead said, holding his hands up in surrender. He saw Betty bite her lip - her fists were clenched tightly.

"You're kidding right?" Kevin asked incredulously. "You need to tell my Dad."

"Uh, no, Kevin, I don't need to," Jughead replied with a shake of his head. "I'm living with my Dad. At the trailer park. On the Southside? Don't think he's gonna care."

"What do you mean, he won't care Jughead?" Veronica asked. "That's crazy!"

"Look guys, thanks for the concern and all but really I'm fine," Jughead said, he looked over to Betty and she still looked uncomfortable. He bit his lip in worry before adding, "It's probably something to do with my Dad anyway. He'll take care of it. I just bruise easy alright? Anyway Betty, we should probably get back to the Blue and Gold right?" Jughead said, praying to whichever god might be listening for Betty to just go along with it.

"Yeah, sure Juggie," Betty said, standing up and Jughead let go of the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

* * *

The Blue and Gold office was thankfully empty as per usual when the two of them got there. Jughead closed the door behind them and then sat next to Betty on two of the chairs. Betty looked miserable.

"Thank you Betty," Jughead said, taking one of her hands in his.

"For what?" she asked looking up, her blue eyes glassy.

"For not telling anyone my secret. I owe you," he said solemnly.

"Well, I guess I'm coming to have to collect on that pretty soon."

"What do you mean?"

"I need to find Polly. Now that we know she was engaged to Jason, it just makes everything way more complicated. Come over for breakfast at my place tomorrow. I need my Mom distracted so I can at least try and figure out where Polly is."

"You want me to... _what_?" Jughead said, frowning. "Breakfast? With your Mom?"

"I'll ask her to make pancakes?" Betty said with a small smile.

"Alright Betty Cooper, just this once," he said, leaning forward to kiss her lightly on the lips.

 _{A.N. Sorry not much happening in this chapter but I just had to figure out where in the series this was going to drop in. Apart from the Serpents and FP being way more violent and abusive, it's still going to roughly follow the series. So yeah, I hope you guys liked it and there'll be way more real soon!}_


	7. Chapter 7: Sins Of The Father

_{A.N. Double chapter update! Fair warning for anyone who likes FP... he's kind of an asshole here. And for anyone who was hanging out to see what really happens when FP gets mad at Jughead in this fic, here it is and it's not pretty...}_

 **Chapter 7: Sins Of The Father**

Jughead pulled off his jacket and collapsed on the couch in a wet heap as soon as he got home to the trailer. It had been one hell of a day. Not only did he have to endure Alice Cooper over breakfast, but Betty and he found Polly _and_ the getaway car only to have lost them both moments later. On top of everything, he was absolutely soaked through from the pouring, freezing rain.

He sat back up, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. This whole Jason Blossom murder mystery was taking over their lives and he kept wondering more and more if he knew the exact people who'd been involved in it all. It was weighing on him. And it was really driven home was FP stomped up the steps and into the doublewide moments later stinking on gasoline and smoke.

"Uh Dad"- Jughead began but was cut off when FP jerked him up to his feet by the collar of his shirt.

"You wanna tell me what you were doing out on Route 40 with that blonde?" FP demanded shoving Jughead painfully up against the wall of the doublewide.

"What do you mean?" Jughead asked, his voice shaking, struggling to keep his arms by his side - fighting back would only incense his father further. Especially tonight. With FP so close he could smell the whiskey on his breath, along with the almost-overpowering scent of gasoline and smoke from what he now assumed was burning Jason and Polly's getaway car complete with all of the evidence inside.

"Don't play dumb with me boy, I know you found that car," FP growled. He used his free hand to punch Jughead right in the gut making him gasp. "How did you know it was there?"

"Dad, I...Polly told us, Betty's sister. She was engaged to Jason," Jughead stammered.

"Goddamnit Jughead, you do realise that the drugs in that car were from the Serpents," FP said to him a low voice. "You could've implicated every Southside Serpent by telling the Sheriff. Myself included!"

He punctuated his last statement by throwing Jughead to the floor. He hit his side painfully on the coffee table and rolled off onto the floor.

"Dad, I didn't know! I couldn't have known!" Jughead said, staying on the floor. Better to stay there than to stand up again, FP would perceive that as him fighting back.

"Well how about this for today's lesson," FP said, his hands moving to unbuckle his belt making Jughead swallow nervously, " _don't_ go searching for any more hidden getaway cars, or engaged girlfriends, or dead football players. Or what I'll do to you will make this feel like nothing." FP pulled his leather belt out from his jeans, folded it over and slapped his hand with it.

"Dad, please," Jughead held up a hand but FP whipped the belt in his direction. He cried out as it lashed painfully across his hand.

Jughead immediately covered his head with his arms, turning and facing away from his father as FP brought the belt down again and again on his unprotected back. He was still wearing a singlet and flannel shirt but it didn't offer much protection against FP's strong right arm. The leather belt cut down across his shoulders and his sides but Jughead bit his lip not wanting to make too many sounds - that would just make his father hit him harder. After only a minute or two of FP's belting, Jughead's entire back started throbbing. The belt was hitting places it had already struck once, twice, three times prior only seconds before. The hits started slowing but now every time the leather whipped his back Jughead gasped quietly, tears brimming in his squeezed-closed eyes and trickling unwanted down his cheeks.

In these moments Jughead never thought stupid things like _why him?_ This was simply his lot in life. He had a deadbeat dad who was not only head of the Southside Serpents but also liked to take his anger and frustration out by smacking around his only son. Instead he tried to focus on the things in his life that were _good_. Things like his friendship with Archie, mangled though it had been since their missed road trip last summer it was on it's way back to rock solid, where it should be. Or Veronica who, despite coming from Met Galas and Manolos never looked down her nose at him. And Betty, his bright, shining light in the darkening storm that was his life.

He was just trying to picture her perfectly blue eyes when he felt the buckle of FP's belt land squarely against his ribs. Jughead couldn't help himself and cried out in pain at the strike. He moved his arms from protecting his head to wrapping around his middle, forcing himself to stop the agonising sobs that were now wracking his injured body.

"Had enough?" FP asked him but thankfully Jughead could already hear him buckling his belt back up.

"Y-yes," he whispered.

"Good. Next time you feel like playing detective and I find out this will seem like a walk in the park for you, got it?"

"G-got it."

"Good. Get the hell outta my sight. You're not sleeping here tonight. In fact, it's time for you to find somewhere new altogether. Get you stuff and get out." FP stalked to the back of the doublewide and Jughead flinched when he heard the bedroom door slam shut.

Jughead didn't need to be told twice to get out of the house although he did move a little slower than usual. He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, biting back a cry of pain at the muscles pulling on his abused flesh. He forced himself to breathe deeply and push away the agony. He needed to get out of here. Hell, he should've gotten out of here months ago. Where was he supposed to go though? He groaned softly. FP didn't really think things through. Like how he was going to get his son to participate in the next fight at the Whyte Wyrm if he didn't know where he was sleeping. Screw it that's _his_ goddamn problem not mine, Jughead thought, forcing himself to get to his feet and grabbing the side of the kitchen bar when he wavered on his feet.

He closed his eyes, breathing through the pain again and then gritted his teeth. He gingerly eased on his fleece-lined denim jacket, just that movement causing white hot sparks of pain radiating outwards from his back. Now came the worst part. He bit his lip while he shoved the last of his necessities into his backpack then picked it up, stifling a cry of pain at the weight of it pulling on his shoulder. He rolled his shoulders minutely trying to figure out which one was more sore. His left shoulder had been ever so slightly closer to FP and had borne the brunt of the lashes. His right shoulder had only suffered a few glancing blows. Jughead carefully lifted up the backpack and placed it on his right shoulder which felt alright but when the full weight of it leaned against his back he almost crashed back to his hands and knees again at the pain. He couldn't help the solitary entire-body-wracking sob that escaped from his lips as he hung onto the side of the sofa for dear life. Once the excruciating pain had dimmed to something slightly more manageable he took a shaky breath in and opened the door to the doublewide, pulling down his beanie against the chilly Fall wind that blew in.

Jughead stumbled out of the trailer and down the stairs, not even bothering to look back as he left. Where would he go now? Pop's was open 24 hours or he could head to Archie's. He physically shook his head at _that_ idea. He figured Archie had a feeling that FP smacked him around a bit but he knew Archie didn't think it was as bad as it was. There was one place he could go, he realised.

He could go to Betty's.


	8. Chapter 8: It Happened One Night

**Chapter 8: It Happened One Night**

The walk to Betty's didn't take too long considering how small Riverdale was. Jughead's backpack bounced painfully on and off his back but luckily the bitingly cold wind was starting to have a numbing effect after a half hour walking through deserted midnight streets.

He finally made it to Betty's about ten minutes after 12am. All of the lights were off in her house and in Archie's next door which he was more than thankful for. He thought about grabbing the ladder and climbing up to her window like he'd done earlier, before they found the car. He wasn't sure he'd make it. Instead he figured she'd be tossing and turning, her mind going over the tumultuous night they'd had and where Polly might've run to. He texted her.

 **Hey Betty sorry for the late notice but is there anyway I can stay at your's tonight?**

Jughead crossed his fingers, hoping she wasn't fast asleep. He didn't really have a Plan B and walking back over to Pop's now seemed impossible with the freezing wind and the agony stemming from his back.

He was contemplating sending another message, starting the journey to Pop's or just collapsing where he stood when his phone vibrated.

 **Of course! Where are you now?**

Jughead felt like a literal weight had been lifting from his aching shoulders as he typed a reply.

 **Downstairs. Don't think I can manage the ladder right now.**

Within seconds the front door opened and Betty was there in a dressing gown, a stricken, worried look plastered on her face. He staggered over to the threshold and she ran out to meet him halfway.

"Betty, you're barefoot," he said, frowning. "It's freezing out here."

"Said the guy who just _walked here_ ," she admonished but by the sound of her voice she was close to tears. "Are you okay? Just tell me, don't make me ask you a million questions."

"Can we just go inside first? It's pretty cold out here."

"Yes, yes of course, we'll have to be quiet. Mom's asleep, she took a Valium after the whole Polly thing but she's still a light sleeper."

"No problem, I can be quiet."

They got to the front door and Jughead shifted the backpack on his shoulder, involuntarily letting a hiss of pain escape. Without words, Betty lifted the strap from his shoulder and took the bag before closing the front door behind them.

"Thank you," Jughead whispered.

The two of them headed upstairs to Betty's room and she closed the door silently behind them. Jughead didn't really know where or what to do so he sat down on the chair in front of the vanity. Betty sat down on her bed.

"What happened? Don't beat around the bush or avoid my questions. Just tell me," Betty demanded but she kept her voice soft and gentle.

"My Dad happened," Jughead admitted. "The drugs in Jason and Polly's getaway car were from the Serpents. I don't know how either of them managed to have a car full of Serpent drugs but that's where it all came from. I think...I think Dad followed us out to Route 40. He set the car on fire after we left to go get the Sheriff. He got angry at me Betty. He thought that the Serpents and him would be implicated in Jason's murder because of those drugs."

"Well of course they would be, that's the logical connection," Betty said.

"I know Betty. As soon as I saw those drugs I knew the Serpents were connected with Jason's murder," Jughead said. He sighed, pulled off his beanie and ran his fingers through his unruly black fringe. "My Dad seems to think that our investigating is going to lead to him getting arrested for Jason's murder."

"Did he have anything to do with it Juggie?"

"I...Honestly? I don't know. I didn't think he'd be capable of murder but now...I'm not so sure."

"What did he do to you?"

"He uh...let me just show you," Jughead said, closing his eyes momentarily to prepare himself. He wasn't sure if FP's belting had broken skin but if it had then taking off his shirt and singlet was going to unbelievably painful.

"Okay," Betty breathed.

Jughead slowly pulled off his jacket then unbuttoned his flannel shirt. He hissed quietly as he slipped it off his shoulders. There were definitely cuts on his back and shoulders that had bled and stuck to his shirt. He grabbed his singlet and took a deep breath in before pulling it over his head in one go and biting his lip to stop from crying out.

"Oh my god Juggie," Betty said. She hadn't even seen his back yet but already had tears falling down her cheeks watching him struggle to take off his shirt and singlet.

"Tell me how bad it is," he said almost casually and turned around in the chair, flinching when he heard Bety gasp. "That bad huh?"

"How the hell did you _walk here_ Jughead?" Betty said, jumping up from the bed. "Don't...don't answer that. Just wait here."

"Uh...okay?"

Betty was back moments later with a warm, damp washcloth. "I suppose this is going to hurt but...I'll try to be as gentle as I can alright?"

"Sure," Jughead replied quietly. He closed his eyes when he felt the warmth of the cloth on his right shoulder. Whilst Betty was as gentle as anything, the cuts were still fresh and they stung when she wiped them clean. Jughead tried to stay silent while she worked on his back - he'd had a lot of practice staying quiet while his father laid into him - but he just couldn't. Almost every inhale was tinged with a hiss of agony and he clenched his fists to stop himself from making more noise - he didn't want to wake up Betty's mom after all. Finally the pain lessened with Betty's soft ministrations and Jughead let out a shaky breath softly.

"Are you okay Juggie?" Betty asked him.

"Much better now that I'm with you," he replied truthfully.

Betty continued cleaning the welts on Jughead's back, biting her lip when she saw a dark red bruise on his side. "What's this from?" she asked, touching her fingers to it lightly.

"Uh I think it's from the buckle," Jughead said softly.

"The buckle...? Oh my god Jughead, I'm so sorry," Betty said, her breath hitching with tears.

"You don't have anything to be sorry about Betty but thank you all the same," Jughead said his eyelids dropping. He was beyond the point of exhaustion right now if he was being honest. "I uh...if you have a spare blanket I can just sleep on the floor."

"What? You're not sleeping on the floor Jughead," Betty said. She grasped his upper arms gently and kissed his shoulder on the small patch of pale skin that wasn't marked. Jughead inhaled sharply when he felt her kiss him but he relaxed in her arms. "Sleep in the bed. With me."

"Are...are you sure?"

"All we're gonna do is sleep so yeah, I'm sure," Betty replied.

"If you insist Betty Cooper."

"I do, Jughead Jones." She kissed him again. "Should I...do I need to bandage your back or anything?" she asked worriedly gazing over the welts and bruises that marred his skin.

"No, better to keep it uncovered. It'll heal faster that way," Jughead said, turning so he was facing Betty. He kissed her gently on the lips but she pulled away. "What is it?"

"I just...I hate the way you say that like you have extensive experience in the area," she replied sadly.

Jughead sighed. "I don't know what to say Betty, I...I _do_ have experience in the area. I can't change that and you know I'm not about to anytime soon if it means I can't stay in Riverdale. Anyway, my Dad ended up kicking me out tonight."

"He did? Where are you planning on staying?" Betty suddenly looked guilty as all hell. "I'm so sorry Juggie, as much as I want you stay here for good, my Mom would eventually find out. She'd call FP or Weatherbee and then you'd probably be right back where you started - back with your father. The odd night here and there I can smuggle you in but my Mom's too crafty. If you stayed here longer than a few days - even if I hid you in the attic for crying out loud - she'd find you."

"It's okay Betty really, I'll find a place. I always do," Jughead said, pushing errant strands of blonde hair behind her ear. "Don't feel bad over it. It's my problem, I'll sort it out."

"I know, but...but this shouldn't even _be_ a problem you should _have_ to sort out. It's not fair to have to...to _choose_ between not having a home or living with a...an abusive goddamn _biker_ who beats you!" Betty whispered as tears trickled down her cheeks.

"Betty please, I'm okay, _we're_ okay," Jughead said, cupping her cheek in his hand and wiping away the tears with his thumb. "Come on, it's late. I can't thank you enough for letting me stay here and cleaning my back but let's go to bed. Got any ideas on how we're avoiding your Mom tomorrow morning?"

Betty stood up and walked over to her bed slipping beneath the covers. Jughead toed off his boots but kept his jeans on. He couldn't be bothered changing right now - he was about to fall asleep standing up if he wasn't too careful. He followed her to the bed but laid on top of the covers on his front, pulling a blanket over himself.

"She told me she's going into the Register offices early tomorrow. She said she probably wouldn't see me until tomorrow night so I think we'll be fine," Betty said, pushing Jughead's unruly black fringe out of his eyes.

"I can always slip out early," Jughead said, "I don't want to get you in trouble."

"You won't," Betty said, kissing him lightly on the lips. "The last thing I want is for you to get into more trouble. I promise, you'll be safe here."

"Thank you Betty," Jughead whispered.

"It's fine Juggie"-

"No, _thank you_. Thank you for taking me in and taking care of my back and letting me sleep in your bed - which is crazy comfortable by the way - and for just...just making me feel better and for being you," Jughead said, his vision blurring slightly as a single tear escaped and ran down his face.

Betty kissed him softly. "You're very welcome," she whispered.

 _{A.N. Sorry this took like forever to post! It was really hard writing this chapter, so much delicious angst! I hope you guys like it though!}_


	9. Chapter 9: Paradise Lost

**Chapter 9: Paradise Lost**

Jughead always knew the dream he was living currently would end. He just wasn't living the sort of life that allowed for a boy from the wrong side of the tracks to love the beautiful, perfect girl next door. He just didn't think the dream would be shattered so violently or so miserably. In a small way, he was fortunate. It didn't all shatter at once. It happened in stages. The first being when Alice Cooper, contrary to what she'd told her daughter barged in to Betty's room first thing in the morning to find the two of them in bed, fast asleep with Jughead's arms wrapped around her.

"Elizabeth Cooper! What the hell is going on here?" Alice shouted, immediately slamming both Jughead and Betty back into the world of the living.

They both shot bolt upright in bed, Jughead with a hiss of pain at the pull on his back.

"It's not what you think Mom," Betty said, getting out of bed and grabbing her robe.

Jughead's brain snapped forcefully into gear and he got out of bed too. "It is kinda what you think," he said with a wince. He stepped forward to get his flannel shirt but Alice got in his way. He took a step back when he saw how furious she looked.

"Oh no, you can stop right there and tell me what the hell is going on?" Alice demanded.

"I...uh..." Jughead began taking another step backwards and gasping as his back hit the bedroom wall.

"Nothing at all to say for yourself?"

"Mom please!"

"Quiet Betty, I'll get to you next." Alice turned back to Jughead who, if Betty was being completely honest, looked absolutely terrified. " _You_. You come into _my house_. And sleep in my daughter's _bed_. Who the hell do you think you are?" Alice said. She looked up to the heavens and raised a hand to her mouth in disgust. She didn't notice Jughead flinch at her movement but Betty did. "How dare you. How dare you!" Alice shouted, taking another step forward. Jughead could hear his heart thumping in his ears and he crumpled to the floor as she continued. "I ought to ring your father! In fact I ought to belt you right here and now!"

It was almost like she'd spoken the magic words. They'd definitely had an immediate impact. Jughead, already on the floor, had brought his knees up and covered his head with his arms, his injured, marked back facing Alice who gasped when she saw the damage already inflicted.

"Oh my god Juggie!" Betty ran over to him and fell to her knees next to him. He was shaking. She placed a hand on his shoulder and he flinched violently away from his touch. "It's just me, you're okay, I promise."

"I'm sorry, please tell her I'm sorry," Jughead whispered as his shallow breaths came quicker and quicker, making him think he was on the verge of a panic attack or something.

"You don't have anything to be sorry about," Betty said. "Wait here, I'll be right back." She stood up and stared down her mother.

"I didn't mean...I didn't know - what the hell happened to him?" Alice stammered, for once at a loss for words.

"Okay, come on," Betty said, "give him a minute." She grabbed her Mom's hand and dragged her out of her bedroom, shutting the door behind them. She hated leaving Jughead alone while he was literally cowering in the corner of her room practically having a panic attack but she needed to talk to her mother. "It's not my place to tell you exactly what's going on," she said.

"Who did that to him?" Alice questioned.

"I can't tell you. If he wants you to know, he'll tell you himself," Betty said, her hands forming fists. It was next to impossible to keep the details from her mother, from someone who could actually _do_ something for Jughead. But she'd promised him.

"Did FP do that to him?"

"Mom I can't tell you."

"Was it FP? Just tell me and I'll have that bastard locked up in no time."

"Please, just stop asking. He needed somewhere to stay last night. I didn't mean to keep it from you, I just...well he got here at midnight. I wasn't about to wake you up and see if we could make up the guest room."

Alice was silent for a few moments, mulling over what Betty had said. Then she asked "Why does he need somewhere to stay?"

"FP kicked him out," Betty replied. Jughead hadn't asked her to keep _that_ secret.

"Oh my goodness," Alice breathed. "Okay, look, he can stay here today and tonight but tomorrow I'm calling FP and we'll"-

"Please don't call him."

Alice and Betty spun around to see Jughead in the hallway standing in the doorway to Betty's room. He was still shaking somewhat, Betty could see the trembling in his fingers as he placed a hand on the wall to steady himself. His eyes were glassy and his voice was soft but it was strong.

"Please don't. I'll find somewhere else to stay from tomorrow, I promise."

"Jughead, he's your _father,_ " Alice started, "he'll want to know where you're"-

"He won't. And he doesn't have to. Not right now, alright? Please don't call him. I'll leave right now if it means you won't call him," Jughead all but begged.

Alice sighed and looked from her daughter to Jughead Jones standing in the hallway. "Okay, fine, I won't call him. You don't have to leave right now."

Betty could literally see the weight fall from Jughead's shoulders at her mother's words.

"Thank you Mrs Cooper," he said in a shaky voice.

"Damnit," Alice breathed. She turned to her daughter. "Betty, I need to go to the Register's office and do a whole heap of research on the Blossoms today. I need to take my mind off of Polly, let the police search for her. Will you two be alright here for the day?"

"We'll be fine Mom," Betty reassured.

"Alright, well...call me if anything happens."

"We will."

And with that, Alice took off down the hall, away from the tragic soap opera that her daughter's life was turning into. Betty turned back to Jughead. He looked like he'd had the energy zapped from him as he leaned heavily against the wall. Betty took his hand which was still trembled slightly and tugged him back towards the bedroom, closing the door behind them. Silently they walked back to Betty's bed and climbed on, Jughead inhaling sharply when his raw back touched the pillows.

"Are you alright?" Betty asked, grasping his hand in her's and stroking it gently. "How does your back feel?"

"It's going to be sore for a while," Jughead replied despondently.

"How long?"

"A few weeks usually, if nothing else happens," Jughead said softly.

"I'm so...so angry that I never realised it before," Betty said.

"Angry?" Jughead echoed, a stab of worry hitting him right in the heart.

"At myself. I should have figured it out. I should have known something was wrong," Betty lifted her hand from his and moved to touch his shoulder. He flinched away slightly, mumbling an apology. She dropped her hand back to his. "You do that often. Flinch away when someone raises their hand, wince if someone slaps you on the back at school. God, I've seen _Archie_ do it. You don't say anything but it's hard to hide when you're in pain. I'm angry at myself because I _did_ notice you were hurting but I didn't...god I didn't think anything of it. You must have thought I was a heartless bitch."

"No! I could never think that about you Betty," Jughead soothed.

"I feel terrible about it," Betty said shaking her head in shame.

"Don't," Jughead said. "I'm sorry I've got you all caught up in this. I hate asking you to lie to your Mom."

"It's fine, don't worry about that. I just want to know that you're safe, that you're...away from your Dad," Betty said.

"It's not..." Jughead started but cut himself off. He didn't know how to put this to Betty. She probably wouldn't understand.

"It's not what?"

"It's not his fault, not really."

"It's not _FP's fault_? Jughead, he's the one beating you! How can you say it's not his fault?"

Jughead winced at her words. "He's just not really cut out for being a single Dad. Maybe I should've gone with my Mom and Jellybean to Toledo but I didn't want to leave. My whole life is here. Archie's here, _you're_ here. But my Dad's also here. I think sometimes he blames me for them leaving. Or he blames me for staying. I think maybe I remind him of Mom and he hates that she's not here. So he takes his anger out on me. I can't blame him for being upset."

"He might be upset about your Mom and Jellybean leaving but Jughead, you know there's absolutely no excuse for him to leave welts _all over your back_ from his belt," Betty said softly. "You know what he's doing is wrong, right?"

"I know ," Jughead replied quickly. "But...I don't know, I think sometimes he just...he just gets in my head. All you ever wanna do is make your parents proud. You're supposed to look up to your parents, they're your role models, your heroes. But...what if they're not? Is that my fault for not being good enough?"

"What do you mean 'not good enough'?" Betty was confused.

"He only...he only hits me when I've stuffed up. He works late so he doesn't want me making noise in the mornings. I run late to school too many days in a row and Weatherbee calls him. Nine times out of ten it's my fault. I deserve"-

"Don't you dare say you deserve it," Betty cut in. Jughead frowned at her, not in anger but in doubt. "You 100% _do not_ deserve to be hit for anything. At all. You don't deserve to be hit by your father for waking him up in the mornings or for getting a call from Weatherbee. You certainly don't deserve to be literally _belted_ by him. I don't care how many times I have to keep telling you this but I'm going to keep doing it until you believe it. You got that?" she added but her tone was gentle.

"Yeah I got it," Jughead said with a short laugh. "Please don't...don't give up on me."

"I don't think I ever could," Betty said, leaning forward to kiss his unruly black waves. Jughead leaned against her, moving with a slight hiss of pain into a more comfortable position next to her. Betty's heart was full to bursting and she didn't know whether she wanted to kiss him all day or cry over his untenable situation but she knew there was one thing she needed to do which Jughead wouldn't be happy about. She _needed_ to tell Archie and Veronica. She had a feeling Archie might let Jughead stay at his place but indefinitely? Archie would need a pretty good reason. She only hoped Jughead wouldn't think of it as the absolute betrayal she knew it would be...


	10. Chapter 10: Blood On Her Hands

**Chapter 10: Blood On Her Hands**

Jughead spent the first few hours of that Saturday thinking. Wondering where he could go. He always knew he wouldn't be able to stay with Betty longterm - her parents would never allow it, not after Jason and Polly. There was no more Twilight Drive-In and it wasn't like he could actually _sleep_ at Pop's. He knew of a few hidden places where he could set up camp at the high school but that idea just made him feel depressed.

The only reasonable place he could think of was Archie's. Things had been tense between them since the summer and the revelation of Archie's relationship with Ms Grundy. But they were getting better, they were patching things up. It could be an option.

He'd taken a shower at Betty's and she'd told him to stay in there for as long as he wanted and it was heaven. The warm water had initially stung the welts on his back but before long he'd desensitised to it and it felt lovely. His skin felt hot and tight afterwards but a fresh shirt and lying face down on Betty's bed with her next to him stroking his hair absentmindedly while he dozed and she researched the same things her Mom was researching down at the Register's office. Last night had been so tumultuous, painful and just down right tiring that he slept peacefully for a good few hours on her bed before she woke him for lunch.

The two of them worked on research and eliminating suspects for the rest of the day then turned in early. Alice insisted that if he was going to sleep over it was going to be on a spare mattress on the floor. Betty protested but Jughead relented. He had a roof over his head and food in his belly. He wasn't going to complain in the slightest about anything right now.

Before they turned out the light, Betty sat down on the mattress with him to check on his back. Jughead was torn. While he knew there were risks with just ignoring the welts and hoping they'd heal on their own he also didn't want to expose Betty to his suffering quite so often. She had such a pure, giving heart. She gave so much and Jughead didn't want her giving up everything for him. But he gave in, pulling off his shirt so she could look.

"God Jughead, it looks worse," Betty said sadly. "If that's even possible."

She lightly touched one of the more prominent welts where the belt had broken the skin and a line of dark purple bruising was etched into his back. He flinched away from her touch.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "It always looks worse before it gets better. The bruising comes out in all kinds of delightful shades."

He turned around to face her. Betty looked miserable. "Please don't be sad," he said, cupping her face in his hands. "I'm okay. I'm going to be fine."

Betty just nodded and kissed him before turning off the overhead light.

* * *

The next morning they slept in again then breakfasted before chilling out in Betty's room again - something Jughead assumed he was supposed to be doing on the reg instead of getting beaten up by bikers or his father. He'd decided to ask Archie if he could stay at his place temporarily and mentioned it to Betty.

"I think that's a great idea," she said. "In fact, I thought maybe we could have dinner next door. I already texted Arch."

"Uh, sure," Jughead said. He was hoping to just turn up and pray that Archie would just let him stay. This dinner would mean Archie might ask questions.

"That's alright?"

"Yeah, it's fine, thank you," Jughead replied, not wanting to bite the hand that was currently feeding him.

At 6pm, he grabbed his back pack and made it swing it onto his shoulder but Betty clutched his arm.

"Let me take it, you might reopen some of those cuts," she said.

He nodded and handed it to her. "Thank you," he said. It was becoming the most frequent thing he said to Betty which he supposed was both a good and a bad thing.

The two of them left her place and walked the short distance across the way to Archie's and Betty rang the doorbell. Archie answered in seconds.

"Hey Archie," Jughead said as they walked in.

"Hey guys," Archie replied closing the door behind them, shutting out the wintry winds. "Pizza's already in the kitchen."

"Thanks for dinner Arch," Betty said as they sat down on the stools around the kitchen island. She watched Jughead bite his lip, hold back a wince as he sat down but she said nothing.

Archie opened up the pizza boxes and they started to dig in. Betty noticed Jughead wince when he reached forward to grab a slice and she pushed the box closer to him. He looked up at her and gave her a small smile of thanks.

"So Archie, Jughead needs a place to stay," Betty said, biting the bullet. Jughead almost choked on the bite of pizza he'd just taken and swallowed reflexively.

"Yeah? Well, you can stay here Juggie, that's fine," Archie said with a smile. "Why?"

"I...uh...things aren't that great at home," Jughead confessed.

"I'm sorry Jug, yeah you can stay here," Archie said. "For how long?"

"Well uh...that's the million dollar question," Jughead said quietly.

"I'll see what I can do but I can't imagine Dad being too against it," Archie said with a smile. "We can be roomies!"

It was like the whole thing happened in slow motion and there was nothing Jughead or Betty could do to prevent it happening. As soon as it did happen, Jughead tried his hardest - he knew an honest reaction would have Archie asking questions - but the pain was too great. As soon as the words were out of Archie's mouth, he leaned over and slapped Jughead right on the back.

Jughead cried out in pain as tears immediately sprang to his eyes. He clutched the edge of the kitchen island to stop himself from literally hitting the deck.

"Oh my god, Jughead, what's wrong, what did I do?" Archie said, shocked at the reaction of his best friend.

"It's nothing Archie," Jughead said, forcing himself to slow down his breathing.

"It's not nothing Juggie," Betty whispered. He looked up at her - it was his turn to be shocked.

"Betty," he said, trying to convey in that one word everything he wanted to say to her but couldn't, not in front of Archie.

"We have to tell him Jug. We have to at least tell Archie what's going on."

"What's going on?" Archie said, looking from Jughead to Betty and back again. "Guys? What the _hell_ is going on?"

"Betty please don't," Jughead all but begged her but she looked down, biting her lip, unable to look him in the eye.

"Archie...Jughead's Dad...FP has been..."

"Betty, please," Jughead pleaded but it was practically too late.

"FP beats Jughead," Betty blurted out. "I'm sorry Juggie, but we have to tell him."

"We don't _have_ to do anything Betty," Jughead said, tears starting to trickle down his cheeks. He felt like his heart was broken. No, not just broken, pulled out his chest and ripped apart in front of him before being thrown back to his feet, a ruined, bloody mess.

"Wait, _what_?" Archie spat out. "Your Dad is beating you?!"

"No, it's not like that, Arch"-

"It's _exactly_ like that Juggie," Betty interrupted. "Archie, it's bad, really bad," she continued and once she'd started she found she just couldn't for the life of her stop. "FP hits him _often._ In fact Jughead is _covered_ with welts right now because FP belted him, like _literally belted him_. That's why he flinched just then."

"Archie"-

"Tell me the truth Jughead," Archie demanded.

"Betty, how could you?" Jughead said, feeling his heart thumping painfully in his chest, the blood rushing in his ears.

"Because you _need_ to be safe. And you could be safe here. You'd be right next door to me, Juggie."

"I...I don't think I want to be anywhere near you right now," Jughead said, dropping off the stool and grabbing his backpack. He started backing away from the kitchen.

"Jughead wait!" Betty called out but he turned and ran and made a beeline for the front door. He jerked it open and he was out, in the darkness of the evening, in the cold.

Archie and Betty ran up to the threshold after him. "Jughead! Stop, you can stay here!" Archie shouted.

Jughead was just about to cross the road to go God knows where, anywhere but here when a pickup truck missed him by an inch. He jumped backwards just in time to see FP opening the driver's side door.

"There you are Jughead," FP said.

"What the hell do you want?' Jughead asked him, tears blurring his vision big time. "You kicked me out, remember?"

"Yeah, but I forgot you got a fight on tonight at the Wyrm," FP said, keeping his voice low so Archie and Betty wouldn't hear his words.

"Jughead, you're not gonna go with him are you?" Betty called out from the front door of Archie's place. Jughead turned around to see her stricken face and Archie holding her back. Smart move Archie, Jughead thought, don't get between a violent, completely-nuts Southside Serpent and his wayward son.

"You gotta be joking," Jughead said, throwing up his hands. "Goddamn this freakin' world. Can I never get a break?"

"Get in the car," FP ordered.

"Screw you _Dad_ ," Jughead snarled in response.

"That's no way to talk to your father."

"Think you lost the right to call yourself that," Jughead retorted. He could feel himself shaking. He was in for it big time if FP got him alone. This was the most he'd ever stood up for himself in the years that FP had been hitting both the bottle and him.

"That's it," FP said menacingly.

He grabbed the back of Jughead's neck and jerked him towards the car. Jughead stifled a cry when his father's rough fingers pressed down on fresh welts. FP wrenched open the passenger side door and all but threw Jughead into the pickup. He slammed the door behind him and fixed Jughead with a glare so murderous Jughead wondered if his father really did kill Jason Blossom.

FP wordlessly got into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition. Jughead risked one glance up at Betty and Archie and the matching heart broken expressions they both wore was enough to make him look away in defeat.

"You're gonna fight tonight Jughead," FP said as he gunned the pickup away from the nice side of the tracks. "And whether you win or lose, you're gonna get another belting from me for that stunt you pulled back there."

 _{A.N. Oh my god you guys, the suspense! Let me know if you like where this is going and I'll keep it going...}_


	11. Chapter 11: The Losing Battle

**Chapter 11: The Losing Battle**

Jughead sat stock still in the pickup as FP sped closer and closer towards the Whyte Wyrm. He pressed his fingers between his thighs to stop himself fidgeting but he was humming with kinetic, anxious energy. FP looked furious. _Beyond_ furious actually and Jughead knew he was in for it now. He hadn't seen FP this angry in a long time. In fact he'd only ever seen him like this one other time. Luckily Jughead had passed out pretty quickly from FP's harsh treatment on that occasion so he didn't quite remember all of it but he did remember sleeping on the couch for a solid fortnight, home from school and licking his wounds. His father had been amazing for those two weeks. Brought him coffee and donuts from Pop's most mornings, made him a home-cooked meal a couple nights and even came up with a convincingly good cover story for Weatherbee - that Jughead had been hit by a car just outside of the trailer park.

That was the tricky thing with FP. Deep down, Jughead knew that FP was well aware that his behaviour was wrong. When he went too far he'd always try to make up for it. It was partly why Jughead didn't tell anyone, why he stayed and endured.

"Dad, I"-

"Shut up Jughead," FP snapped. "You...goddamnit, you catch me when I'm drunk and get me all worked up and pissed off at you. And there's a fight on tonight and you're gonna freakin' lose and I'm gonna lose the couple hundred I've already bet on you."

Jughead didn't know what to say. On the one side he was still tired from his weekend from hell and in pain from FP's beating but on the other hand he was getting angry now. It was _so far_ from being his fault, it wasn't even funny and, before he could even stop himself he said as much to his father.

"Excuse me?" FP asked back, his tone low and dangerous.

"I said, this is _not_ my fault," Jughead replied, his voice shaking slightly. "I shouldn't even be _fighting_. I'm a sixteen year old kid for crying out loud. I should be worrying about schoolwork and girls and - I don't know, the fact that there's a _murderer_ on the loose in town. I shouldn't be worrying about losing a fight in a biker bar and then having to deal with you beating me up later on."

FP slammed on the brakes and pulled the pickup over roughly. Jughead's shoulder bumped the car door and he winced. He almost didn't comprehend it though. His heart felt like it had lodged in his throat and he clutched the door tightly to keep at least one of his hands from shaking. He stared straight ahead and down, his breaths coming in quicker and quicker.

"Alright first of all, you need to _shut up and stop talking right now_ before I beat you to hell and back in this goddamn pickup," FP said, leaning across the centre console and getting right up in Jughead's face. Jughead swallowed nervously but he nodded. "Secondly, I don't care how dirty you have to fight but you're gonna win tonight, you hear me?"

Jughead was silent. He honestly didn't know how to respond to that.

"Good," FP said, pulling out onto the main road again.

Ten more minutes later and FP slammed the pickup into park outside the Whyte Wyrm. Before Jughead could even make a move to get out, FP jerked open the door and grabbed Jughead's shoulder, pulling him forcefully out of the truck. With a heavy hand on the back of his neck, he pushed Jughead towards the biker bar.

* * *

"Where are we even going?" Archie said, as Betty turned the key in the ignition and sped off with Archie in the front seat of her car.

"I don't know, Jughead's place?" Archie suggested. "Did you hear what FP said to him?"

"I didn't," Betty said. Her eyes were glassy and her hand was holding onto the door so hard her knuckles were white. "But I know we need to get there fast. FP could already be laying into him."

"What we need to do is call the cops," Archie said.

"No!" Betty all but shouted. "No, we can't call the cops."

"Betty, why not?" Archie asked, confused.

"Jughead asked me not to."

"He's also the one getting abused by his father, that's something the cops can take care of," Archie shot back.

"I know but he's worried. If we tell the cops and they put him in foster care he might not be able to stay in Riverdale. He might have to leave," Betty explained. "Arch, we're all he's got now. And if we abandon him to some random foster family it just might be the last nail in his coffin."

"What's the alternative?" Archie questioned.

"He stays with you. We don't report FP and he just stays with you. I know it's not the best outcome but do you think your dad would be okay with it?"

"Yeah of course he will. I'll make sure of it," Archie said. "Goddamnit, I can't believe Jughead didn't tell me about this. How did _you_ even find out?"

"I overheard my parents talking - they said they'd had a tip about the Serpents holding fights in the basement of the Whyte Wyrm. I figured Jason's murder could be connected and I snuck in one night. What I didn't expect to see was Jughead fighting"-

"Wait, _what_?"

"I know. The whole thing is absolutely crazy. Jughead told me that FP makes him fight, FP bets on him," Betty said. "It was definitely _not_ what I was expecting when I went there"-

"I still can't believe you went to the Whyte Wyrm by yourself, that's suicide."

"Well I'm tougher than I look."

"You sure are, Betts," Archie said, shaking his head in disbelief. "But how did you find out about FP?"

"I made Jughead tell me why he's doing the fights. He didn't tell me straightaway, it was hard to get it out of him, but eventually he said that FP makes him do it and if he doesn't do it, FP beats him. In fact FP beats him for lots of things. Jughead and I found Jason and Polly's getaway car on Friday night. It was full of drugs and now we're pretty sure that the Serpents have something to do with his murder - that's where the drugs came from. But by the time Kevin's dad got there, the car was a burned out wreck. FP burned it after we found it. Then he came home and blamed Jughead for leading the Sheriff there and implicating the Serpents."

"But Jughead couldn't have known that the Serpents were involved," Archie said with a frown.

"I know but apparently FP isn't so easy to reason with after half a bottle of Jack Daniels. Anyway, Jughead didn't talk about it too much but FP belted him. Like literally _belted_ _him_."

"Oh my god," Archie breathed. Then it hit him. "So when I slapped Juggie on the back...holy crap, I had no idea."

"I know. I didn't either until Jughead finally told me," Betty said, wiping angry tears from her eyes. "But I had noticed him turn up at school with the odd bruise."

"I thought that was just stupid Reggie and Chuck being dicks, shoving him around," Archie said, gazing down at his hands. "God, I never thought..."

"Neither did I. Neither did anyone," Betty replied. "We're here."

They pulled into the parking lot and Betty's car bounced over the potholed drive towards the doublewide Jughead called home. She jumped out of the drivers seat almost as soon as she'd put it in park and raced up the trailer, knocking over the pot plant in her haste to get the key. Archie caught up with her just as she was about to shove the key in the lock.

"Betty! Shouldn't we wait?" he whispered.

"Not if Jughead's in there, bleeding and unconscious," Betty replied. She unlocked the door and they burst into the trailer -

To find it _empty_.

"Jughead's not here," Archie said, walking down the short hallway towards the bedroom and bathroom. "Betty, he's not here."

"Oh no," Betty gasped, "I know where he is."

"Where?"

"The Whyte Wyrm. FP is going to make him fight."

* * *

Jughead fell to his hands and knees after the last punch to his cheek had him seeing stars. He spat out blood while his opponent took a moment to crack his knuckles and roll his shoulders.

"Get up Jughead!"

At the sound of his father's voice rising over the noise of the crowd, Jughead forced himself to his feet, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He pushed his black fringe away from his eyes and wiped the blood from his nose and mouth with the back of his hand. He dropped into a low crouch and tried to figure out his next move. The other guy was big, not as big as Stinger, the creatively named Scorpion, but he was still bigger than Jughead was. Jughead had already landed a couple decent hits - the guy's right eye was rapidly swelling shut and he was favouring his right side - but Jughead's energy was fading fast. His flannel shirt stuck in places to his back where errant punches had reopened cuts from FP's belt and, as usual, his ribs were burning with each breath.

His opponent came at him swinging. Jughead ducked the first punch and went to surprise him with a jab. The guy moved too quickly and grabbed his right arm, twisting it behind his back forcefully. Jughead cried out in pain as his arm was twisted further and further.

"Just say when and I'll let go," his opponent said menacingly in his ear.

But it wasn't him that Jughead was scared of. His green eyes searched the heaving mass of bodies for his father. FP was scowling at him and it was at that moment that Jughead decided he just didn't care. He felt himself go limp in his opponents arms.

"Do your worst, I don't even care anymore," he replied back.

"Your choice kid."

His opponent jerked his arm back and Jughead heard a distinct 'pop' sound from his right shoulder before white-hot agony erupted from the dislocated joint with enough power to almost render him unconscious. He practically screamed in pain and his opponent dropped him to the ground and stepped away. Jughead hugged his useless right arm up against his body as hot tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Jughead? You gonna keep going or you forfeit? Jughead?"

Jughead looked up to see Mustang standing over him. Not trusting himself to speak just yet he nodded.

"You forfeit?"

Jughead nodded again. Mustang bit his lip in sympathy, having some idea of what Jughead was in for later with FP before he turned to the crowd.

"We have a new champion! Black Jack Peters is your winner gentleman! Pay up on those bets!"

Mustang grabbed one of the Southside Serpents and spoke in his ear, pointing to Jughead, still on his knees on the ground. The Serpent pushed through the crowd and clutched Jughead's left arm and hauled him to his feet. He dragged him back through the crowd towards the bar, Jughead gasping every time someone bumped his right shoulder. The Serpent sat Jughead on a stool and placed his hands on Jughead's right arm. Jughead winced and he closed his eyes against the shooting pain.

"Alright kid, on the count of three," the Serpent said and Jughead nodded silently, tears still running down his face. "Okay, one"-

The Serpent quickly manoeuvred his shoulder back into place and Jughead bit back a cry of agony, breathing hard, eyes closed, as the pain dulled to something a little more manageable.

"His shoulder done?"

Jughead's eyes snapped open to see his father talking to the Serpent who'd set his shoulder. The Serpent nodded, took one quick, sad look at Jughead and blended back into the crowd.

"Get up. We're going," FP said, throwing Jughead's jacket at him and grabbing his right shoulder.

"Ah Dad, my shoulder!"

"You should've thought about that before you _lost_."

FP pushed Jughead up the stairs and out onto the street, towards the pickup. Jughead was silent for most of the short walk but once they got to the truck he started trembling.

"Dad, please"-

"Shut up." FP seized Jughead's shoulders and slammed his back up against the side of the pickup truck. "You just lost me _three_ _hundred dollars_." He backhanded his son harshly making Jughead stagger, FP's hand torturously tight on his right shoulder the only thing keeping him on his feet. "That's a lot of money for a guy like me. And you're a goddamn mess right now. You won't be able to fight and _win_ in weeks." FP struck Jughead again, splitting his lip. "You a freaking _loser._ You're absolutely _worthless_." FP hit Jughead a third time and his words hit home in a big way. Jughead kept his eyes focused solely on the ground, not wanting to fight back in any way. "Why'd I have to be left with _you_? You good-for-nothing piece of crap." FP raised his hand and Jughead closed his eyes, readying himself for another bloom of pain in his face when a single shout rang out across the parking lot.

"FP stop!"

Jughead risked opening one eye and then both to see FP frozen in place, his hand still raised looking to his left. Jughead followed his gaze and felt his stomach drop out and his heart leap into his throat. Archie Andrews and Betty Cooper stood there, Archie's phone in his hand.

"Stop or I call the police."


	12. Chapter 12: Aftermath

**Chapter 12: Aftermath**

"Let him go, FP," Archie said stepping forward, Betty close behind.

"Think you need to get out of here kid," FP growled. "Can't you see I'm having a private conversation with my son?"

"Let him go now," Archie repeated, "I'm not joking. I'll call the police. Get Sheriff Keller down here in five minutes. Your choice."

"Fine, have it your way," FP said. He turned back to Jughead who stiffened visibly under his father's gaze. "Where are you gonna go then, Jughead?"

Jughead tried to talk but no words came out. He swallowed and tried again. "At A-Archie's."

"Sounds like a plan," FP said, nodding. He grabbed Jughead's right shoulder hard eliciting a sob of pain from his son. "Get out of my sight then."

He threw Jughead to the ground and to be honest, Jughead didn't even have the strength to get back up at that point. His shoulder was on _fire_ , his ribs made every breath agonising and his heart felt like it was breaking. He heard FP slam the driver's side door of the pickup and then gun it, down the street, away from the Whyte Warm and away from him. Suddenly there were hands on him and Jughead flinched at the touch.

"Jughead, it's just us," Betty said worriedly. "Are you alright?"

Archie helped Jughead up to a seated position, unfortunately grasping his right shoulder gently making Jughead gasp in pain. He hugged his right arm close to his torso and focused on slowing his breathing. He kept his gaze on the ground. He didn't know what to do or think. His father had abandoned him yet again to his friends - one of which had completely betrayed his trust.

"Juggie? Are you okay?" Archie's question echoed Betty's and he nodded in response before thinking better of it and shaking his head 'no'. "Alright, it's okay. Let's get you back to my place. Your stuff's all still there, everything's gonna be fine."

"A-alright," Jughead whispered in response.

"Can you stand?" Betty asked.

"N-not without help."

"That's alright buddy, we'll help you," Archie said reassuringly. "Betty, why don't you bring the car closer?"

"S-sure thing Archie," Betty said, taking one last look at Jughead's face, screwed up in agony, before running to where they'd parked the car.

Archie helped him to his feet not without a groan of pain from Jughead as his vision blurred from hot tears. Archie grabbed his right arm and made to put it over his shoulders but Jughead jerked it back. "Not that arm, Arch."

"Okay, no problems," Archie said, studying his friend's face anxiously. He moved to Jughead's other side and pulled his friend's left arm over his shoulders, wrapping an arm around Jughead's waist to support him better. Archie's hand pressed painfully on bruised ribs but Jughead wasn't sure he'd be able to walk on his own right now so he didn't complain.

Betty stopped the car and jumped out to help. Archie motioned to the back seat and she opened the door so he could gently lower Jughead into the car. There was a brief moment when Archie had shut the car door and Jughead was alone. The physical and emotional pain of the night hit him like a freight train and a violent sob wracked his entire body. He bit his lip hard to push it down as Archie jumped in the other side of the back seat next to him.

The drive back to Archie's was more or less quiet. Archie and Betty didn't say a word and the only thing escaping Jughead's lips were sharp inhales when an injury was jostled by a merciless pothole. Jughead leaned his head on the cool glass of the window, letting the cold numb his aching face. He didn't even try to stop the tears when the pain of everything caught up to him and the trickled silently down his face, dampening the collar of his flannel shirt.

Betty pulled up in front of Archie's place instead of her's so the walk for Jughead would shorter. She and Archie hopped out of the car and Archie tossed Betty his house keys. He opened the door for Jughead and pulled his left arm over his shoulders again, supporting him as they walked up to the front door which Betty unlocked.

"Think you can manage the stairs?" Archie asked softly. His dad wasn't home - he'd gone to his foreman's place to have a few brews and watch the night's baseball game, he wouldn't be back until late. Even so, Archie kept his voice low and calm, not wanting to stress Jughead out unnecessarily.

"I-if you h-help me," Jughead stammered. He hadn't realised how cold he was - winter was almost upon Riverdale and it was freezing out, literally. He was shivering from the icy chill even though they were inside and Betty had already shut the front door.

"Of course Juggie," Archie replied. "Betty, you go on ahead. Grab a washcloth from the bathroom and some bandages - there's First Aid stuff under the sink."

"Sure thing Archie."

Step by step, Archie got Jughead up the stairs. By the time they reached the top, Jughead was openly weeping from the pain he was in, gasping at every landing. Archie helped him into his bedroom and sat him down on the edge of the bed. Jughead gripped the edge of mattress with white knuckles - he wasn't sure for how long he could keep himself up.

"Can you tell me where it hurts Juggie?" Archie asked him gently.

"E-everywhere," Jughead whispered in response, his eyes trained on the floorboards.

"I was hoping you wouldn't say that," Archie said, running a hand over his face in worry. "Can you tell me where it hurts the most?"

Jughead nodded and swallowed, his throat feeling raw. "My shoulder," he answered. "My right shoulder. It got dislocated in the fight."

"Christ," Archie breathed remembering the way Jughead asked him not to touch his right arm. "It is still dislocated?"

"No."

"Oh thank god cause I have _no idea_ how to put a shoulder back in," Archie said just as Betty came into the room, washcloth in hand. "Betty, we'll need some ice and a tea towel for Jughead's shoulder. And could you bring him some water as well please?"

"I'm on it," Betty said, thankful for something to do. She knew she'd completely betrayed any and all trust Jughead had placed in her by telling Archie and it made her feel sick to her stomach.

"Let me clean up your face," Archie said. He made to wipe the blood away from Jughead's split lip but Jughead flinched away.

"Sorry, 'm sorry Arch," Jughead mumbled.

"You got nothing to be sorry for Juggie," Archie said, slowly raising the damp washcloth up to his face again.

Jughead winced as the cloth wiped the blood from his face. He closed his eyes as Archie gingerly touched the split skin on his cheekbone and the cut on his lip.

"I don't think you'll need stitches for those," Archie said, relieved. "You're gonna have a few nice shiners though."

"Lucky me," Jughead replied, resignedly.

"I'm not going to make you tell me everything that's been going on right now," Archie promised. "I can see that you're tired and hurting. What I _will_ do is clean you up, make sure you're not going to bleed out in the night from some injury I haven't seen yet, and get some ice on your shoulder. But I'm going to need you to take off your shirt. I...I'm going to need to check your back."

Jughead looked up at Archie - light green eyes met brown and Jughead dropped his head, nodding. He raised trembling fingers to the buttons on his shirt, trying gamely, and failing, to undo them. Not feeling the need to say anything, Archie started on the buttons and Jughead dropped his hands to the bed. Archie finished on the buttons and slowly slid the shirt off Jughead's shoulders. Jughead hissed as Archie gently pulled the shirt sleeve off his right shoulder. Archie then realised the shirt was stuck to his back.

"Ah Juggie?"

"Yep?" Jughead replied hoarsely.

"It feels like the shirt is sticking to your back."

"That's because it is, Arch," Jughead said. "Just...rip it off in one go. Don't do it slowly, _please don't do it slowly_ ," he added, his voice shaking.

"A-are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Archie helped Jughead get his arms out of the sleeves and then he grabbed the collar of the flannel shirt in both hands and in one, strong move tore it away from Jughead's back. Jughead cried out in agony, his hands forming into fists so tight they cut into the skin on his palms. The door to Archie's room slammed open making Jughead cringe away but it was just Betty.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, "I heard a..."

"It's okay Betty," Archie said, balling up Jughead's flannel shirt in his hands. "You got that ice?"

"Uh yeah, yeah I've got it."

"Why don't you hold the ice on his shoulder while I clean up his back? It's his right shoulder," Archie added, although he didn't have to - Jughead's right shoulder was already coming up in painful-looking deep red bruises.

"Yeah I can do that," Betty said, sitting on Jughead's right and slowly placing the cold makeshift icepack on the joint. Jughead bit his lip and closed his eyes tightly against the freezing cold. "Have some water," she offered, passing Jughead a full glass. He took a sip and then realised exactly how thirsty he was and drained the glass, passing it back to Betty with a quiet "Thank you".

Archie, meanwhile, dumped Jughead's shirt on the floor - he'd deal with it later - and got on the bed behind Jughead to take a look at his back. He stopped himself from gasping in shock just in time but his obvious inhale of breath alerted Betty. She looked over at Archie and he met her eyes. Archie's gaze seemed to convey his horror at the situation and Betty just nodded sadly back at him.

"You gonna clean my back or what?" Jughead asked softly.

"Yeah, yeah I am, sorry," Archie said.

"Please don't say you're sorry," Jughead replied, dropping his head almost to his chest. "I'm...I'm so tired of people telling me they're sorry."

Archie didn't say anything else, he simply wiped the blood from the reopened cuts on Jughead's back and shoulders, not missing any of the winces or gasps of pain coming from his patient. "Should I...should I cover them? With bandages or anything?"

"No," Jughead replied. "I'll heal faster if I keep my back uncovered."

"You'll heal faster if you're not near your father," Betty added, immediately regretting the words as soon as she spoke them.

"Yeah I'll have to remember that for next time, thanks Betty," Jughead replied but with no venom in his usual sardonic words.

"I'm sorry," Betty said gently.

"Don't worry about it. I shouldn't have snapped at you. Technically you're right," Jughead replied, feeling more like himself now that he had ice on his shoulder and blood washed from his face. "Archie?"

"Yeah Juggie?"

"Can I...can I stay here?"

"Oh my god, _of course_ ," Archie said forcefully, "you can't go back to your dad. I don't care what he says, he's...he's a goddamn _monster_ for what he's done to you, he'-

"He's still my dad, Archie," Jughead replied, keeping his tone even but his eyes flicked dangerously up to Archie's before settling back to the floorboards.

"I get that but Jug you're...you're covered in injuries," Archie said softly. "I mean I haven't even gotten to the point where I ask you what _this_ is from," he added touching his fingers hesitantly to a dark purple bruise that covered half of Jughead's side. Jughead winced and Archie heard him hold his breath at the touch and he pulled his fingers away rapidly. "You're in a bad way Jughead. We just want to make sure you're safe."

"You'd do the same for us," Betty said.

"I'm sure I would but like I told Betty," Jughead said, shooting Betty a pointed look which made her drop her gaze, "I don't want the police or Child Services or anyone knowing about this. I don't want to go into a foster home that's miles away from here. That's miles away from _you guys._ If I can stay here with Archie then no one else needs to know."

"You don't want the police knowing about what FP's doing? What he's doing _to you_?" Archie asked in disbelief.

"No I don't Arch, please don't make this front page news. If you do, I'll deny everything. Don't make me go through that, _please,"_ Jughead all but begged his best friend.

"Alright, alright," Archie said, holding his hands up in defeat. "But I want you to know that I don't approve of this. At all. If it's what you want then I'll go with it. You can stay here. I'll tell Dad that FP is just not doing anything good for you right now. He won't mind putting you up. I'll make sure of it."

"Thanks Archie. I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you"-

"Seriously Juggie? Don't worry about it. You don't need to," Archie said. "You're my best friend, I'd do anything to make sure you were safe."

"Thank you Archie," Jughead repeated.

"Alright, have you had dinner? Want a Hot Pocket or something?" Archie said, standing up, not missing Jughead's wince as the mattress moved underneath him.

"Nah, I'm alright, thank you though."

"Okay cool. Well I'm just gonna run down to the garage and pull out the air mattress - and before you say anything, _I'll_ take it. You can have the bed, no arguments."

Jughead nodded and Archie left the room leaving him with just Betty who was still holding the ice against his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Betty asked him.

Jughead nodded again. "I will be. Thanks to you guys."

"I'm sorry, Jughead, I'm so, _so_ sorry for telling Archie. I just...I felt like I had to. I couldn't keep something so...so horrible secret like that when I knew Archie would go above and beyond for you if he knew. But I feel...I feel terrible for promising you something and then ripping up that promise a day later. I'm so sorry. I don't expect you to forgive me and I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted"-

"Betty stop," Jughead said. "I...I _was_ angry about it but I can see now that you only wanted to help. It's fine, please don't worry about it."

"So...so we're okay?" Betty said.

Jughead turned to look at her, to _really_ look at her. And he was reminded once again of how brightly her light shone in his dark, messed-up world. There was _no way in hell_ that he could stay angry at someone like Betty Cooper. Who only saw the best in people and only wanted good things for them. And he was one of those people. He could never push her away permanently. He looked down at her luscious, pink-toned lips and licked his own hungrily before leaning forward, ignoring every single ache and pain that plagued him and kissing her. She melted into him and kissed him back, the kiss deepening before Jughead had to break it, sit up straighter lest their agony in his ribs and shoulder intensify any more.

"We're definitely okay Betty Cooper," he said with a sigh. "What would I do without you?"

"Crash and burn," Betty said with a small smile, making sure the ice pack was still in place on his shoulder just as Archie reentered the room, air mattress in tow.

"What'd I miss?" he asked, looking from Jughead to Betty.


	13. Chapter 13: The Cold Light of Day

_{A.N. Hey guys the story is still going... I've got plenty more ideas to come, don't you worry! Let me know if you like it!}_

 **Chapter 13: The Cold Light Of Day**

Monday dawned bright and cold. Jughead hadn't stayed over at Archie's in years and he definitely wasn't used to the blinding morning light that beamed in through Archie's window. He groaned and rolled over just as Archie walked in with two steaming mugs of hot, black coffee.

"You up Jug?"

"Yeah, guess I am now," Jughead replied, turning to face Archie, his eyes immediately glued to the coffee in Archie's hands. "That coffee?"

"You know it."

"Fantastic," Jughead breathed. He pushed himself up to a seated position with only a few hisses of pain, not missing the concerned look on Archie's face as he placed the mugs on the bedside table and rushed to Jughead's side. "I'm fine, I'm fine," Jughead insisted, although he looked and felt far from it.

"Think you can manage school?" Archie asked.

"Suppose I don't have a choice really, do I?"

"Of course you do, Jug, it's just...Dad's totally fine with you staying indefinitely"-

"What did you tell him?" Jughead interrupted, frowning.

"Just that things weren't good at home, that FP was drinking again, no details," Archie said. "But I don't think he'll be super okay with letting you stay home from school if he doesn't know about...all of...this," Archie finished waving his hand vaguely in the direction of Jughead's bruised and beaten body.

"Gotcha," Jughead nodded. "Well I'm not gonna lie, that walk to school is going to feel like torture."

"Don't even worry about it, Betty's going to drive us, she borrowed her Mom's car."

"Oh thank god," Jughead breathed, relieved beyond belief.

"Want a shower?"

"Definitely," Jughead went to stand up but wavered on his feet. Archie grabbed the arm nearest to him which was unfortunately Jughead's right arm, pulling on his tender, bruised shoulder. Jughead gasped and jerked his arm out of Archie's grip. "Not that arm Arch," he said gently, reaching up with his left hand to softly massage his black and blue shoulder.

"Damn, sorry Jug," Archie said looking genuinely horrified at causing his friend pain. It didn't escape him that Jughead had said the exact same thing to him the previous night. "You right to get to the bathroom?"

"I'll be fine, Arch, really," Jughead promised him, gritting his teeth and standing up, slowly walking over to the bathroom.

The warm water felt wonderful on his skin and Jughead spent more time than he'd planned in the shower, forcing himself to get out, otherwise they'd be late for school. He got dressed, wincing as he pulled an S t-shirt on and then a shirt and jacket on over the top.

He took stock of his injuries as he was dressing - his back was still very sore and tender, the welts were red and angry looking but at least most of the cuts were on the way to healing, as long as he didn't get into anymore fights. His right shoulder was killing him, throbbing constantly with any movement he put it through and his bruised ribs were still making just breathing uncomfortable. He had pretty decent bruise on his cheekbone and a split lip - both of which were from his father. They didn't look too bad - considering what the rest of his body looked like - he could probably just pass them off as a result of roughhousing over the weekend.

"Ready to go?"

Jughead looked up and nodded at Archie. "As I'll ever be," he replied.

Archie texted Betty as they went downstairs, shooting concerned glances Jughead's way as he moved down the steps slowly, his right arm wrapped around his ribs.

"Hey boys, how'd you sleep - Jesus, what happened to your face Jug?" Fred asked, meeting them at the front door.

"He got jumped by a couple of assholes out at the trailer park," Archie supplied.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine in a bit," Jughead replied, keeping things sufficiently vague. "Thanks for letting me stay here Mr Andrews, I really appreciate it."

"Anytime, stay as long as you want," Fred said kindly. "Seriously, it's the least I can do."

"Thanks again."

"Betty's giving us a lift to school so we better get going," Archie said.

"Alright boys, well have a good day, stay out of trouble," Fred called as they were out the front door and down to the street.

"That's the plan!" Archie replied as Betty ran down the front walk of her place.

She ran up to Jughead and grasped his arms, studying his face. "How are you Juggie?"

"I'll be okay, Betty," Jughead replied, giving her a quick kiss on her forehead. She moved to hug him but he pulled back with a bitten back hiss of pain. "Maybe not right now, sorry Betty."

"Oh god, sorry Jughead, I just...I just had to make sure you were alright," she said.

"I will be, I promise."

"I just wish you could say you _are_ alright. Not that you _will be_."

"I know," he said softly. "Me too." He turned to the car. "We going to school? It's freezing out here."

"Yeah we are," Betty said with a smile. She unlocked the car and opened the front passenger side door for him, noticing the way he bit his lip and flinched as he got in. Archie jumped in the back and they were off.

Jughead knew Betty was driving slower than usual on purpose and for that he was beyond thankful. Whilst he didn't have any broken bones - aside from maybe a cracked rib or two - his body had already suffered too much abuse for anything other than lying in bed to be painful. And, if he was being honest, it was hard to find a position lying in bed that _wasn't_ painful. But Jughead knew he was in a better place. He wasn't at home with his father anymore, FP couldn't just hit him whenever he felt like it, whenever he needed an outlet. He was literally living right next door to the girl of his dreams.

It all came crashing down when he walked into the Blue and Gold's office to see Weatherbee and Sheriff Keller there, seemingly waiting for him. Both of them were studying the murder board he and Betty had set up and the turned to face him, expressions grim. He dropped his bag on the desk and swallowed nervously.

"H-hey," he said, worriedly flicking his gaze from the principal to the sheriff.

"Hey," Sheriff Keller said, studying the bruises on his cheekbone and his split lip. "You wanna tell me what happened to your face?"

"Uh...a couple guys jumped me in the trailer park on the weekend," Jughead said, but he knew he didn't sound overly convincing.

"You're gonna have to come down to the station," Keller said gruffly.

Jughead bit his lip and nodded, his hands already beginning to tremble. "Okay."

 _{A.N. Hope you guys like it, I'm still following the timeline of the show but it's going to be a little different... There's definitely more to come!}_


	14. Chapter 14: The Usual Suspects

_{A.N. Oh my god you GUYS! I'm so sorry it took me so long to continue this! I still have a really good idea of exactly where I want this going so there's way more delicious Jughead/Bughead angst coming!)_

 **Chapter 14: The Usual Suspects**

"Forensics came back on the car and, despite the fire, well, we were able to pull a pair of prints off the trunk," Sheriff Keller stated across the table from Jughead in the cold, clinical interrogation room of the Riverdale Police Department, "your's and Betty's, of course no surprise there. But what _did_ surprise me was this." Keller opened a manilla folder on the desk. "Your prints are on file from an incident that happened six years ago where you spent some time with the Riverdale Juvenile Delinquents Centre for uh...attempting to burn down Riverdale Elementary School."

Jughead swallowed thickly but pushed down any trepidation before answering with, "I was playing with matches and that's a pretty tenuous connection for a Sheriff." He knew he was literally playing with fire - pun not intended - but he was exhausted, he was hurting and now it looked like he was about to be accused of murder of all things! He'd had enough.

"Well, Principal Weatherbee also allowed me to have a look at your school records," the Sheriff continued. At that, Jughead felt a stab of doubt pierce his gut. "You have a long and rough history, Mr Jones. Bullied a lot."

"Yeah. My name is Jughead," he interjected, trying his hardest to sound as nonchalant as possible - and trying not to roll his eyes at the Sheriff's leading statement.

"By the football team in particular. I can only assume that would have included Jason Blossom. They beat you up a few times."

"Kids get beaten up at school all the time, what's your point?" Jughead shrugged, biting the inside of his mouth at the immediate shock of pain from his still-swollen right shoulder.

"A couple of times it was so bad you ended up in hospital," the Sheriff said, raising his eyebrows.

"That wasn't-" Jughead cut himself off. There'd been two times when FP had really gone to town on him. He hadn't broken anything but once FP's rage had finished clouding his vision - and his judgment - he realised he'd beaten his own son into unconsciousness. Telling the nurse on duty at the hospital that it had been a couple of asshole football players was a pretty convincing lie. Especially when everyone at school knew the football team seemed to have it in for Jughead anyway.

"That wasn't...what?" Keller prodded. And, even though he was Kevin's father, Jughead was still starting to really dislike the guy and his steely gaze.

"That wasn't Jason Blossom who did that," Jughead replied evenly.

"Who was it then?"

"I...I don't know, I don't really remember what happened."

"Both times?"

Jughead nodded.

"And what about just last weekend? Who did that to you?"

"I didn't see them."

"Can you give me a rough description? Height, weight, hair colour, anything?" the Sheriff questioned.

"I told you, I didn't see them."

"You expect me to believe that on at least _three_ occasions you've been beaten up pretty badly and you have no description of your attacker?"

"First of all, I don't think one black eye counts as being beaten up," Jughead retorted, pointing to shiner currently on his face, "and secondly, this sounds an awful lot like victim blaming."

"Pretty sure a black eye isn't all you've got right now from the way you're favouring your ribs and that shoulder," Keller replied pointing to Jughead's right shoulder.

Jughead went to reply but stopped with a sigh. "What are you getting at?"

"You're hiding things."

"I'm not hiding anything."

"You're hiding the truth about why you ended up in hospital twice. Not to mention why you look like crap right now."

"I'm not hiding _anything_ ," Jughead replied, exasperatedly.

"Then tell me who did this to you," the Sheriff said, gesturing to the bruises on Jughead's face.

"I told you, I _don't know_. They came up behind me in the trailer park and just started beating me up. I never saw them. I was kind of too busy trying to make sure they didn't do any lasting damage."

"Any cameras at the trailer park?"

"What do you think? It's on the South Side. There's no CCTV _anywhere_ there."

"Maybe I should pay a visit to your father? See if he knows more about why you're turning up to school covered in bruises." The tone of Keller's voice changed. It made Jughead anxious. It also made him think that the Sheriff had a pretty good idea of why Jughead was getting hurt.

"You don't have to do that. He doesn't know anymore than I do."

"You seem nervous, you having problems with FP?"

"Not more than usual," Jughead replied under his breath.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. I'm not having any problems with my Dad."

"Would you tell me if you were?"

"I...what? I don't know, yes?" Jughead replied, frowning. "Look if this is why I'm here then can I just go?"

"That's not why you're here," the Sheriff said sternly.

"Then why am I here then?" Jughead asked, his voice raising slightly.

"How 'bout this," the Sheriff said, leaning back in his chair. "How 'bout you tell me your whereabouts on the week of July 11th."

"This is crazy. You think I-" Jughead stopped himself mid-track not wanting to even say it out loud.

"Jughead," Keller said, almost breaking out into a grin. "Kid like you, raised on the wrong side of the tracks by a deadbeat dad, bullied by kids like Jason Blossom. I mean, who wouldn't want to lash out at that?"

"I'm not talking to you anymore. I want a lawyer." Jughead said, crossing his arms in front of him, wincing at the pull on his shoulder.

Sheriff Keller nodded and stood up. He walked to Jughead's side of the table and stood behind Jughead who couldn't stop the involuntary shiver running down his spine. The Sheriff placed his hands on Jughead's shoulders and Jughead gasped quietly as Keller's heavy hand squeezed his right shoulder.

"A kid is dead, Jughead. I'm pretty sure you know way more than you're letting on. I'll find out, eventually I always find out." Keller gave Jughead's shoulders a final, crushing squeeze before dropping his hands and leaving the room. The slam of the door closing made Jughead jump in his seat.

Jughead bit his lip, wiping furiously at his glassy eyes and focusing on pushing down the pain that was threatening to make him throw up. Not to mention the anxiety making his stomach flip out. He didn't have an alibi for the 4th of July and he'd just bummed around at home for most of the week after since Archie'd quit their road trip. He couldn't prove that he didn't kill Jason. He groaned softly and rested his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. He was screwed.


	15. Chapter 15: There Will Be Blood

Chapter 15: There Will Be Blood

To say that Jughead Jones was shocked when Sheriff Keller let him leave the interrogation room without a word of complaint was the understatement of the year. But he almost felt like he was walking on air as he pushed open the doors and stepped outside into the thin afternoon sunlight. Archie and Betty were waiting for him outside along with Fred Andrews. Thankfully his Dad was nowhere in sight.

"Jug! Oh my gosh, are you alright?" Betty called, running up to him and, dislocated shoulder be damned, wrapping him in her arms. He leaned down and breathed in the sweet smell of apple-flavoured shampoo on her hair and sighed. He ran his fingers through her blonde ponytail wishing to stay exactly in this position for the rest of the foreseeable future.

"Yeah, I'm fine Betty." He straightened up and turned his gaze to Fred. "Looks like I was working during the week in question. Tearing down some drywall?"

"You're a hard worker Juggie," Fred said with a grin. "Let's head on back, I think four hours at the Sheriff's Department is probably four too many."

"Agreed," Jughead replied, letting out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. While facing off against FP when he was drunk made him pretty scared, sitting in that room with the Sheriff breathing down his neck had been terrifying. Not to mention the thought that someone could think he was capable of killing a person in cold blood.

They headed towards Fred's car, relief flooding Jughead's veins when a pickup screeched to a halt in front of them and FP jumped out. Jughead stopped dead in his tracks on instinct as FP stalked towards their small group. He looked murderous.

"Uh Dad, what are you doing here?" he asked, feeling like the bottom of his stomach had just dropped out.

"What do you think I'm doing here, Jughead?" FP asked, getting right up in his son's face. "You get arrested and I have to hear about from some...goddamn _secretary_? You didn't even call me."

"Give me a minute guys," Jughead said before he took a few steps forward, hoping FP would follow him, moving away from Archie, Betty and Fred. He didn't necessarily need Archie's Dad to hear what he needed to say to his father. It worked and the two of them stopped about three quarters of the way to FP's pickup. "Dad, now is _not_ the time. Can you just leave it?" he whispered.

"You givin' me orders now, huh?" FP grabbed Jughead's right shoulder making him wince.

"Everyone goes for the wrong shoulder," Jughead said under his breath, his shoulder starting to throb painfully.

"What'd you say?"

"Nothing, just..." Jughead trailed off for a minute thinking, was he _really_ going to say this next bit out loud to his father? "Can you just let go of my shoulder?"

FP looked at him strangely for a moment then tightened his fingers around the swollen joint. Jughead gasped and glared up at his father. "This one?"

"Yeah, that one," Jughead said. He felt like he was having an out-of-body experience. What the hell was he doing, talking back to his Dad like this? "In case you'd forgotten, it was dislocated just a day ago. Get your hand off it."

"You sure you wanna be talking back to me?" FP growled, his grip getting even more agonising if it was possible.

Jughead closed his eyes briefly and sighed. "I honestly don't care right now. I'm too tired. I'm in pain. I just spent half the day at the Sheriff's office trying to explain how I'm _not_ Jason Blossom's murderer-"

"What did you tell them?"

"What? About Jason's murder? Nothing! I don't _know_ anything about it, for God's sake Dad-"

"You want me to drag you home and beat the crap out of you? Huh?" FP said, tugging Jughead further away from Archie, Fred and Betty and towards the pickup. "Cause that's what it sounds like you want with all your backtalk. Goddamnit, I'm gonna take you home and teach you a lesson. Maybe _this time_ you won't forget it."

"What, land me in the hospital again?" Jughead shot back. "Cause you know, the Sheriff asked about that."

"The hell are you talking about?" FP raised his voice.

"Jughead, you alright?" Archie called out but Jughead ignored him.

"Sheriff Keller asked me why I've been beaten up three times by 'unknown assailants'. He's having a hard time believing I'm not being beaten up by someone I know."

"Well I guess you better sell it a bit better then," FP retorted angrily.

"Maybe you should just _stop fucking hitting me_ ," Jughead said. As soon as he spat the words out, he knew he'd made one hell of a mistake. FP wasn't crazy, he wouldn't go slapping him around right in front of Archie, Fred and Betty not to mention in the parking lot of the _Sheriff's office_. But then again, he wouldn't put anything past his father right at this point.

"Get in the truck," FP said, his voice so low, Jughead almost didn't hear him.

"No," Jughead replied, his voice shaking and his hands starting to tremble.

He took a step back and FP lunged. He grabbed Jughead by the throat, spun him around and slammed him up against the side of the pickup truck, knocking the breath from his lungs. Jughead only had a split second to see the shocked and horrified faces of his friends before FP yanked open the passenger side door of the pickup and threw him inside. He landed badly, the gearstick digging into his ribs, winding him a second time. By the time he'd gotten his bearings back, FP was already in the drivers seat. He looked out the window to see Archie and Fred running towards the pickup but it was too late. FP shoved the truck into gear and floored it, throwing Jughead backwards in his seat.

The sped out of the carpark and Jughead turned to his father, trying desperately to slow his racing heart. "Dad, come on, why-"

He was cut off when FP grabbed the back of his head and crashed his face down onto the dashboard. Jughead groaned and his vision swam. He could feel a cut open up across his eyebrow and blood quickly flooded his left eye. He was about to wipe it off when his father smashed his head down on the dash again and everything went black.


	16. Chapter 16: Crash

**Chapter 16: Crash**

"Dad we gotta go _right now!_ " Archie shouted in the parking lot as they watched FP's pickup speed away with Jughead inside.

"Whoa, hang on Archie, what the hell is going on?" Fred replied, as bewildered as anyone could ever be.

"We don't really have time to explain Mr Andrews," Betty said hurriedly, tears brimming in her eyes.

Archie could tell his father was torn and Archie could tell pretty accurately why. On the one hand, Fred would have wanted to know what Archie had been keeping from him and he'd want to know that _now_. On the other hand, he'd just seen one of his friends violently manhandle his own son and throw him into a car - none of which implied that the drive Jughead was being taken on was anywhere near the realm of 'safe'.

"Alright, get in the car, you can tell me on the way what's been going on."

Within thirty seconds they'd piled into Fred's truck and were peeling out of the parking lot as well, deciding on the fly to head in the direction of the trailer park. "Twenty-five words or less, why the hell are we _not_ calling the police and what is going on with FP and Jughead?"

"FP has been abusing Jughead," Betty said, biting the bullet.

"FP has _what_?"

"It's true Dad, I mean, you just saw him do it."

"I know, it's...it's just hard to believe, but I do believe you," Fred said, his eyes searching the road ahead for FP's pickup. "So when Jughead came round, covered in bruises...?"

"That was FP," Archie finished.

"How long has this been going on?" Fred asked.

"A while now," Betty replied sadly.

"And we're not calling the police because..."

"Because Juggie doesn't want to wind up in a foster home that's not even in Riverdale," Betty explained succinctly.

"Alright, that's a tough one," Fred said slowly, mulling it over. Finally he spoke up again. "Here's what we'll do. Jughead can stay with us indefinitely and I won't talk to Keller if FP promises to keep his hands off him. That way, he won't end up in foster care."

"Oh my god, thank you Dad," Archie gushed, unable to hold in his gratefulness.

"Now we just gotta get him back," Betty said, her voice shaking.

"We'll get him back," Fred answered calmly. "FP's just...I don't know. I'm not sure I know who FP is anymore to be honest. I always knew he had some issues, but I truly thought he loved Jughead enough to not... _abuse_ him the way you're saying he is."

"I think he does - love Jughead that is," Betty replied, ignoring Archie's dubious glance. "He just drinks. And then he gets angry." Betty thought it wise not to mention the underground fight club FP had been forcing Jughead to fight in - _that_ would definitely warrant going to the police about, but they could do it later, once Jughead was well and truly out of harm's way.

"And that right there is the crux of any issue with FP," Fred muttered with a disappointed sigh, "He drinks. Some people just shouldn't."

They drove through the centre of town in silence and were just heading out onto the pine tree-lined two lane that led out to the blacktop. That's when Archie caught sight of the column of smoke rising lazily in the near distance.

"Is that smoke?" Betty asked, leaning forward in between the two front seats.

"Yeah, it is," Fred replied, slowing the truck.

They kept on driving until they rounded a bend and Fred slammed on the brakes. There, in front of them was FP's pickup. It was off the road, on it's side and smashed into a tree. Smoke was billowing out from the ruined engine.

"Holy crap..." Fred breathed. He pulled the truck over to the side of the road and, before he'd even put the gearshift into park, Betty and Archie had already jumped out. "Be careful!" he shouted after them.

They got halfway to the overturned pickup truck when Archie stopped dead, Betty almost running into the back of him. FP staggered out from behind the smoking wreckage of the truck. Blood was streaming from a cut on his forehead but apart from that he looked like he'd survived. He saw the three of them approaching and turned, bending over to the ground, to something out of sight.

"FP! Where's Jughead?" Fred called out evenly.

FP didn't answer but stood up straight again, this time dragging out a very unconscious and injured-looking Jughead. FP's arms were around Jughead's chest, and his head lolled forward, covered in blood. His right arm seemed to be hanging at a strange angle and a hole had been ripped in the knee of his left jeans leg.

"Oh my god," breathed Betty, horrified.

"Is he alright, FP?" Fred asked as they moved a little closer.

"Get back!" FP shouted, waving his arm at them. The movement threw his balance - the whiskey he'd probably imbibed earlier helped as well - and he lost his grip on Jughead who crumpled to the cold, hard asphalt.

Betty lunged forwards but Archie stopped her. "FP could be dangerous," he said softly.

"We need to get Jughead to a hospital," Betty shot back.

"I know but we need to make sure FP doesn't kill him _right now_ ," Archie replied.

"FP, are you two alright?" Fred asked, moving forward, his hands raised trying to calm FP.

"You're...you're just trying to take my son away from me," FP growled in response.

"No one's trying to do anything FP," Fred placated, getting even closer. He was now about ten feet away from FP and Jughead with Archie and Betty a couple steps behind him. "But I think he might need a hospital, don't you?"

At that moment, Jughead groaned softly from the ground where he'd fallen. Betty couldn't help herself. Quick as a flash, she ran past both Archie and Fred Andrews and dropped to her knees next to Jughead.

"Juggie? Are you okay?" she whispered. Jughead groaned again and opened his eyes - well at least his right eye, his left was swelling quickly.

Fred took the opportunity to step forward, closer to FP. "Come on FP, what're you doing?" Fred turned around and quietly instructed Archie to call an ambulance for Jughead.

"Damn, Fred, I...I don't know. I've messed up. I've messed up real bad, I mean..." FP waved a hand at the ruins of his pickup.

Meanwhile, Jughead tried to push himself up off the ground with his left hand but his elbow buckled. Betty caught him and leaned his upper body against her's. "Where does it hurt Juggie?"

"Ah...everywhere," Jughead finally replied, hissing in pain and closing his eyes.

"No, no, stay with me. There's an ambulance coming," Betty said, tears falling from her eyes. She wiped them away roughly and instead ran her fingers softly through Jughead's black hair.

Fred had managed to pull FP aside and away from Betty and Jughead. Archie got off the phone and hurried over to his friends.

"Ambulance is on the way, Juggie, you're going to be fine," he said, crouching down next to Betty, taking in the bloodied form of his best friend.

"Thanks Arch," Jughead replied through gritted teeth. "Think it can get here any faster?"

"Where are you injured?" Archie replied, frowning in concern. To both Archie and Betty, it looked like there wasn't an inch of him that had escaped harm in the accident.

"My shoulder's busted again," Jughead replied, his voice gravelly and weak. "I think I might have a cracked rib or two."

"Can you breathe alright?" Betty asked nervously.

"I don't feel like I've got a punctured lung...if that's what you mean," Jughead said softly. "And yeah, I know what that feels like."

"What about your head, Jug, you've got blood everywhere," Archie said. "Did you hit it in the crash?"

"Uh...I don't know. My Dad slammed my head into the dash and I blacked out before we crashed. I...I don't remember crashing," Jughead finished, his voice trailing off a little.

Betty met Archie's gaze over Jughead but anything that was going to be said was interrupted by the wail of the approaching ambulance.

"Oh god, that's loud," Jughead said, wincing at the sound.

"I'm so sorry Juggie," Betty said, leaning forward to kiss his head.

"It's not...it's not your fault...Betts," Jughead replied, his strength fading rapidly.

The paramedics rushed over with a stretcher and Betty and Archie were politely yet firmly pushed back while they checked Jughead over. He'd fallen back into unconsciousness which was probably a good thing as he was lifted onto the stretcher and wheeled away. In what felt like seconds, the doors to the back of the ambulance were slammed shut and it was speeding away - taking Jughead to the hospital.

Archie and Betty looked over to where Fred and FP had been talking. Only Archie's father was still there. FP was nowhere in sight.

"Dad? Where's FP?"

"He took off," Fred said, but he didn't sound too angry.

"What do you mean he _took off_?" Betty asked, disgusted and horrified at the actions of Jughead's father - the man who'd just put Jughead in the hospital.

"I know it seems harsh but that's the only way this could all work out," Fred answered. "I don't like going around the police but it's better this way. If the Sheriff rocks up to see that FP's drunk driving has landed his own son in the hospital then that could be enough for Child Services to step in and take Jughead away which is exactly what we don't want right now. We'll say that Jughead was picked up from the Sheriff's office by a Southside Serpent. He crashed the truck and fled the scene, leaving us to call the ambulance for Jughead."

"But-"

"No buts, Archie," Betty interrupted. "I agree with your Dad. No one can know it was FP driving...as long as Jughead can stay with you permanently," she added, more to Fred than to Archie.

"He'll stay with us permanently," Fred answered, his voice firm.

"Thanks Dad, this means... _so much_ to me and...and to Jughead of course and, well to everyone," Archie said.

"Hey, that's what Dads are for, right?" Fred replied with a smile, pulling Archie into a hug.

Betty couldn't help but think about what Jughead's father seemed to be 'for' - it mainly involved Jughead getting hurt repeatedly. Getting cracked ribs, dislocated shoulders, black eyes, welts across his back, the list went on and on. She couldn't help the tears that started running from her eyes. Archie immediately broke free of his father's embrace and collected Betty in his arms.

"He's going to be okay," Archie said.

"I know, I just..."

"Yeah, I know," Archie replied, squeezing her shoulders. "Lets get to the hospital. We want to be there when he wakes up."

 _{A.N. I hope you like it! Sorry it's taking me so long between updates! Comment and let me know if you're enjoying it so far... Your reviews are the best!}_


	17. Chapter 17: Visiting Hours

**Chapter 17: Visiting Hours**

It was only hours, well most of the night, but still only hours. But to Archie, Betty and Veronica who'd met them at the hospital, it felt like days. Weeks. _Years._ The expanse of time between not knowing and knowing stretching out like one of those horror movie dream sequences of a hallway - extending out so far and long you couldn't see the end of it and not from lack of trying.

They'd all eventually fallen asleep. Even Betty, who'd dug half moon-shaped cuts into the palms of both hands so frequently, she'd had to shove them under her arms to stop herself from continuing. Fred had stayed until midnight and had tried to talk Archie and the others into going home - they weren't helping Jughead by exhausting themselves, sleeping on the hard plastic chairs in the waiting room. But even Fred knew from one look at their faces it was no use. Instead, he made sure they'd all let their parents know what was happening and that they all had their cellphones switched on.

Archie and Betty had made the quickest of pitstops at home so Betty could collect her own car - just in case they could take Jughead home in it if he was released by the hospital quickly.

Now they were just waiting. And waiting. It felt like torture, but every time Betty forced herself to wake up from a light sleep with this thought she considered the fact that Jughead had been actually, _literally tortured_ by his father and that was why he was in hospital right this second. What they were going through right now was nothing compared to the agony inflicted on him.

At two in the morning the doctor had told them that Jughead was stable but out cold and that they could go home if they wished. Of course none of them did so and the doctor sighed and simply told them to get comfortable. At seven in the morning the new doctor on duty woke them up.

"Relatives of Forsythe Pendleton Jones III?" the doctor called out, frowning at the elaborate name on his clipboard.

Betty, who'd woken up with the sun and her anxiety still intact, nudged both Archie and Veronica who awoke, bleary-eyed.

"Uh, we're not relatives but we're his friends," Betty said. The doctor looked at them dubiously. "His father's...away on business. We tried calling him already."

The doctor bit his lip but then shrugged. "I suppose you'll do. Mr Jones is waking up right now so you can go on in and see him if you'd like. Room 122."

The three of them were immediately up and out the door, walking with determination to Jughead's room. Betty knocked on the door and pushed it open a second later, not waiting for a response.

Jughead was lying in the bed, propped up by pillows, looking paler than usual. His left eye wasn't completely swollen shut anymore but it was darkly bruised and there was another bruise with a matching stitched gash on his forehead. His right arm was in a sling and his upper body was bare - a huge, dark purple bruise across his right side. His eyes were closed but they snapped open warily when the door creaked open. The corner of Jughead's mouth lifted in a kind of half smile when he saw Betty and the others.

"Hey," he all but whispered - his voice hoarse and tired.

"Hey Jug," Archie said.

Betty immediately went to the chair next to Jughead's bed on his left side. With a little difficulty, he moved his left arm out from under the covers and grasped her hand gently.

"Hey Betts," he said with a wider smile.

Betty couldn't help the tears that welled in her eyes and she smiled back at him. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I was hit by a truck," he replied softly.

Archie, who'd dragged over two chairs on Jughead's other side for Veronica and himself, huffed out a humourless laugh. "You kind of were, I suppose. Or at least the truck you were in hit a tree."

"Huh," Jughead replied, shifting slightly in the bed and wincing as he did so.

"Does anything hurt Jughead?" Veronica asked, concerned.

"Most things," he replied evasively.

"Really, Jug, we can get a nurse if you - I don't know - need some morphine or something?" Archie added.

"It'll get better," Jughead said resignedly. "There's nothing life threatening."

"What did the doctor say?" Betty asked. "No beating around the bush," she added.

Jughead threw a small smile, remembering how she'd said that to him before. "Dislocated shoulder - I've done damage to the tendons but it just needs time to heal. I've got about 4 cracked ribs and 2 broken ones."

"Jesus," Archie breathed while Betty bit her lip in worry.

"There's not much they can really do for them though - they just have to heal on their own like my shoulder. Apparently I'm to refrain from coughing, breathing heavily and laughing for at least three weeks," Jughead said wryly.

"Anything else?" Betty asked.

Jughead fixed her with a meaningful glance before shaking his head gently. It was a 'I'll talk to you about it but not them' glance and Betty nodded.

"Hey do you think you guys could get us some coffee?" Jughead asked Archie and Veronica.

"Uh, sure," Veronica said, standing up. "I guess it's been a while since you've had a cup of Pop's best."

"Too long," Jughead agreed.

"We'll be back in a minute, alright Jug," Archie said, throwing an arm over Veronica's shoulders. "Come on Ronnie, let's give them a minute," he added in hushed tone.

The two of them left and when the door shut, Betty could see Jughead let out the breath he'd been holding. He immediately looked more exhausted, more in pain than before. He'd been putting on an act for Archie and Veronica.

"Tell me," Betty said. She didn't need to elaborate.

"God, Betty I feel so terrible," he whispered. "Every time I move it's...it's like my ribs are stabbing my insides. My shoulder feels like it's on fire and my face just hurts."

"I'm so sorry Juggie, I wish we'd gotten there sooner," Betty said, kissing his hand.

"The nurses asked about my back," Jughead said despondently. "They saw all the welts from...they saw them and asked me what had happened."

"What did you say?"

"Told them it had been some thugs in the trailer park, trying to teach me a lesson," Jughead replied. "Most of that is true anyway."

"Have they asked you about who was driving the pickup when it crashed?"

"Not yet, but I don't really remember the crash. I...I'd blacked out before the crash I think. I...I don't know how," Jughead frowned briefly before the movement pulled on bruises around his eye. Betty realised he must have forgotten his father smashing his head into the dash.

"Okay, Juggie, listen to me carefully," Betty said. "FP was driving the pickup. FP slammed your head against the dashboard _before_ the crash. That's why you don't remember the crash."

"That sounds like him," Jughead said.

"But the story that Archie, Mr Andrews and I are going to be telling is that it wasn't FP driving. It was another Southside Serpent. One we didn't recognise."

"Okay..." Jughead turned to her, a questioning look in his eyes. "That's how we can make sure you don't end up in foster care. If the doctors and the police and Child Services knew that FP picked you up from the Sheriff's Department, drove drunk and crashed into a tree on the drive home it wouldn't look too good for him. Especially if they get even a hint of an idea of how he's been...been hitting you."

"I feel like the nurses around here are already on their way to reporting me to Child Services," Jughead said grimly. "They didn't look like they believed me when I tried to explain the...my back."

"It's okay. It's going to be okay," Betty reassured him. "Archie and I will figure something out. We'll say we were the ones that found you in the trailer park after you got beaten up. Surely they'd rather believe that then your father beating you."

"Huh, you'd be surprised," Jughead said quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"I heard them talking. I think they thought I was still unconscious. But one of them said to the other that, and I quote, 'it looks like child abuse to me'."

"It's alright, we'll just...get you out of here before anything happens," Betty said. "I promise."

The door swung open and Archie and Veronica returned with steaming takeaway cups of coffee for them all. Archie and Betty helped Jughead sit up a little bit, his barely suppressed gasps of pain tearing at Betty's heart. The four of them sat around, drinking hot coffee and talking about nothing really for a while. Debating possible Jason Blossom murder suspects, bitching about Cheryl, debating the pros and cons of Kevin dating a Southside Serpent.

Then at 9am, the doctor on duty and a nurse popped in for a check-up.

"Mr Jones, how are you feeling?" the doctor asked, pulling out the clipboard from the slot at the end of the hospital bed.

"Uh, a bit sore," Jughead replied with half a grin. "But alive."

"That's the main thing," Betty added softly.

"Well you're going to need a week or so of rest and after that you can go back to school but you'll need to _take it easy_. You don't play any contact sports do you?"

"God no."

"Good. Keep it that way. At least for the next couple months," the doctor said, replacing the clipboard. "You'll be able to leave this afternoon but before I get out of here now, I'll need to ask a couple of other questions." The doctor shot a pointed look at Archie, Betty and Veronica.

"They can stay, it's fine," Jughead said, evenly.

"This is about your back," the doctor replied, knowingly. Veronica turned to Betty with a questioning frown but Betty shook her head.

"They...actually know more about it than I do," Jughead said. He saw the nurse cross her arms in front of her chest and raise her eyebrows in disbelief but he continued nonetheless. "I was jumped in the trailer where I live with my Dad. Couple of assholes beat me up. I never even really saw their faces. Couldn't describe them for you if I tried. But before I blacked out, one of them pulled out his belt and started hitting me with it. Kinky weirdo."

"Archie and I found him in the trailer park that night," Betty said, gesturing to herself and Archie who nodded earnestly. "We saw them running away when we pulled up."

"Okay...and could _you two_ describe them?'

Archie shrugged.

"They could have been bikers I guess. But not Southside Serpents," Betty said, definitively. "Jughead's Dad is in the Serpents."

"That's what I thought it could've been about," Jughead added.

The doctor turned to the nurse and she shrugged.

"Alright, are you going back to your father's place if we release you?" the doctor asked. "In fact, is your father here at all?"

"No to both questions. He's away at the moment, on business. I've been staying with my friend Archie. I'll be going back to his place if you release me. His Dad's there," Jughead explained.

"Alright, I'm going to need to talk to your father if you're getting released," the doctor said to Archie.

"Yeah, of course. I'll call him now," Archie said, jumping up. He left the room and Veronica went with him, leaving just Jughead, Betty, the doctor and nurse.

"I noticed in your files that you've been admitted to hospital twice before with assault injuries," the doctor stated. There wasn't a question and it wasn't like Jughead could refute it so he stayed silent. "How did those assaults happen?"

"Same thing. Beaten up in the trailer park," Jughead supplied simply. "It's not in the best part of town."

"And your father is aware of these assaults?"

"He's the one who brought me to hospital both of those times," Jughead replied. "So, _yeah_ , he's aware of them."

"We might need to have a chat with your father," the doctor said. "This trailer park doesn't sound like the safest place to be raising children."

"It's not," Jughead agreed. "But he's looking for a new place for us to live right now."

The doctor nodded, letting the information sink in.

"When can I leave?" Jughead asked.

"As soon as your friend's father gets here to sign you out," the doctor said firmly. "You do have a concussion so you'll need to have someone watching over you for the next few days. And if you experience any dizziness, nausea, memory loss or lack of coordination, you need to come right back here to be checked out. But so far, so good. We'll give you a prescription for some pretty good painkillers and, if you stay away from that trailer park, you'll be right as rain in a few weeks."

"Thanks doc," Jughead said, laying his head back on the pillows and closing his eyes. Maybe he would finally get a reprieve - a break from _everything._


	18. Chapter 18: Saving Grace

_{A.N. Hey guys hope you're still really liking it! To the observant reviewer who noticed the errant 'Lily' in there... Haha I'm not kidding, I feel like I wrote Lily cause I was texting my friend Lily at the time of writing and it just appeared in there instead of Betty! Fixed now ;) Thanks for spotting it! OMG sorry this took sooooo long, let me know how you like it!}_

 **Chapter 18: Saving Grace**

The day passed slowly for Jughead, Betty, Archie and Veronica. They had to wait for Archie's father to clock off that afternoon and they'd all decided that under no circumstances were any of them going to school. Plus it was next to impossible to stop Veronica from asking more questions about Jughead being beaten up by 'thugs' in the trailer park. Finally at 4:30, Fred Andrews hurried into Jughead's room.

"Hey guys," he said softly. "Sorry it took me so long. How're you feeling Jug?"

Jughead opened one eye and then the other slowly, he smiled as much as his bruised face would painfully allow. "Been better."

"Want to get out of here?"

"More than anything," Jughead groaned.

The doctor had already given him a prescription for painkillers to take home that Betty had filled in the hospital's pharmacy so they were ready to go.

"I grabbed some of Archie's clothes for you to wear," Fred said, passing a bundle over to Betty. "Come on guys, let's give him a minute to get changed."

"You feeling up to it Jug?" Archie asked.

"Yeah, I got this at least," Jughead replied but Betty noticed him bite his lip worriedly.

"Alright just come on out when you're ready and we can grab your things for you," Fred said before the four of them left Jughead alone in the hospital room.

Changing clothes was no easy feat for Jughead, what with a screwed up shoulder and busted ribs. Finally he got there, albeit with the laces of his boots untied but he was dressed and ready to go. Holding his right arm across his body, trying to ease the aching pain in his shoulder he opened the door.

"Let's get out of here," he said softly.

Betty didn't miss the determined set of his jaw and the trickle of sweat running down the side of his face from the exertion of just changing his clothes but she didn't mention it.

When they got back to Archie's, Jughead and Betty went straight to the kitchen - Betty could hear Jughead's stomach rumbling the entire way home. Archie ran up to his room quickly and ran back, hauling his football gear for training.

"I'll be back in a couple hours, you guys alright here?" Archie asked.

Jughead, sitting on a stool at the kitchen island, nodded and smiled a little at his friend.

"Yeah, I think we'll just order some pizza or something - there's nothing in the fridge to eat. By the way, have you spoken to Ronnie?" Betty replied. "About..." Betty waved her hand vaguely in Jughead's direction, "I mean...she might have some questions." Betty bit her lip and looked over at Jughead whose gaze was planted firmly in the direction of his hands in his lap.

"Yeah about that..." Archie frowned. "She kind of figured it out on her own. I swear I didn't say anything Jug but she said she wouldn't tell anyone."

"It's alright Arch," Jughead replied, resignedly. "Ronnie's a smart one, she was bound to figure it out."

"Still...I'm sorry," Archie added.

"Thanks," Jughead replied softly.

"I'll see you later on. Dad's having a few beers with a couple of his friends and watching the game so he'll probably be home late."

With that, Archie was out the door and it was just the two of them.

"How're you feeling?" Betty asked him, reaching across the table. With more effort than it should take, Jughead raised his hands and grasped her fingers as if they were anchoring him to the moment. He looked up at her and smiled.

"Better now that I'm out of the hospital and here with you."

"You want me to order some pizza?"

"That would be amazing, thank you Betty Cooper."

"What do you feel like having?"

"Whatever you feel like."

Betty pulled out her phone and dug out a menu from the toast rack on the kitchen bench, calling up and turning away from Jughead while she ordered.

Jughead felt his stomach rumble at the thought of pizza but that feeling was soon drowned out by his aching ribs and shoulder. They were, without doubt, the most excruciating and frustrating injuries to have. There was practically nothing the doctors could do for them - couldn't wrap his ribs or his shoulder really, and they hurt with every movement, every _breath_. He had painkillers but he was wary of them - he almost found that they made his mind seem foggy and, living with a dad like FP he couldn't afford to have a foggy mind.

"Ordered a supreme and a pepperoni," Betty said, hanging up and sitting down again.

"Perfect," Jughead said. He took a breath, winced at the pain in his ribs and looked up at her. "I realised, I haven't really asked you how _you're_ going with...everything that's been happening. Are you alright?"

"Jughead Jones, you literally _just_ got out of hospital with busted ribs and you're asking me if _I'm_ alright?" Betty said with a smile.

"Yeah, I am," Jughead countered with a grin lifting one corner of his mouth. "So, tell me, are you alright?"

Betty took a deep breath and bit her lip. "Well, my Mom found out that my Dad had tried to pressure Polly into getting an abortion so she kicked him out. She wanted to write a whole exposé on the Blossoms so Dad fired her from the paper. So I guess they're even?"

"Oh my god, Betty, that's...that's crazy, are you alright, _really?_ " Jughead asked, his grin disappearing rapidly.

"Uh, I suppose I will be. I've got you and I know that you're safe now so that's making me feel a little better about all of the other things."

"Betty, I'm so sorry about everything I've put you through," Jughead said, looking down. "I feel terrible, I should never have involved you"-

"Juggie, I involved myself," Betty interrupted. "And while it broke my heart seeing you in those fights at the Whyte Wyrm and cleaning your back when you _walked_ to my place from the trailer park, not to mention when I saw FP throw you in his truck and drive away, I knew I had to make sure you were safe."

"I don't need saving," Jughead replied but his voice was gentle.

"You don't _now_ ," Betty said with a short laugh.

"I guess I don't now," Jughead replied. "What did I do to deserve someone like you Betty Cooper?"

"I don't know, but it certainly worked, Jughead Jones," Betty said, leaning across the kitchen island to kiss him.


	19. Chapter 19: Happy Birthday Jughead Jones

**Chapter 19: Happy Birthday Jughead Jones**

The next two weeks were quiet, at least for Riverdale standards. Jughead was now well and truly comfortable ensconced at Archie's place. For the first week he'd slept in Archie's bed, albeit not his choice. Every time he'd lie down on the air mattress Archie would pitch a fit at how sleeping on a mattress could do all manner of things to Jughead's still-healing ribs and shoulder. Finally he gave up after a week of arguing when Jughead simply went to bed early and pretended to be fast asleep on the air mattress when Archie came in.

He went back to school after the first week - sitting around at Archie's home was just not as enjoyable as he'd pictured, especially nursing cracked ribs. Jughead figured if he was going to delay their healing by playing video games with too much enthusiasm he may as well delay their healing by lugging his backpack to and from school each day instead. At least then he'd be _doing_ something.

He finally started writing about Jason Blossom's murder again, the words flowing so easily from his mind to his fingertips to the document on his laptop screen:

 _Weekdays, from 8:25am to 3:01pm, we adhere to a strict regimen. Everything in our lives controlled. But then something like the murder of Jason Blossom happens, and you realise there's no such thing as control. There is only chaos. Nevertheless, some of us strive to impose and maintain order in what is, fundamentally, an orderless world. A fact which would very soon be confirmed in ways none of us could have foreseen._

It was his birthday coming up and no, Jughead was _not_ looking forward to it. His previous birthdays were always marred by the unexpected kindness of his father sober, or the brutal violence of his father drunk on Jim Beam and anger. There was literally no middle ground. He'd already told Fred Andrews - who had left for Chicago to finalise divorce papers with Archie's Mom - that Fred wouldn't be missing any birthday shenanigans. If left to his own devices, Jughead's birthday would quietly slip under the radar. But of course, this was Riverdale. _Nothing_ slipped quietly under the radar.

* * *

"You may or may not know this, but it's Jughead's birthday tomorrow," Archie told Betty in the school hallway.

Betty almost dropped her books. "What? And he didn't say anything?" she asked, shocked.

"It's tomorrow and he doesn't like making a big deal out of it," Archie explained vaguely, although Betty figured having FP as a father would make birthdays pretty terrible. "Every year he goes to a double feature at the Bijou - it's like this tradition. Last few years, I've been his movie buddy, but now that he has a girlfriend-"

"Well of course, I'll take him," Betty interrupted with a smile, "but you should still come with us."

"No," Archie replied quickly, "I don't want to be a third wheel."

"Come on, it'll be like old times," Betty insisted, remembering their grade school exploits.

"The Three Musketeers," Archie grinned.

"Actually Archie, there were _four_ musketeers," Betty countered, thinking he could bring Veronica.

But Archie grinned and shook his head, no. "I'll see you later Betty."

Meanwhile, Betty was already thinking of a _much better_ idea for Jughead's birthday. A surprise party. After telling the rest of the gang about it at lunchtime, it was decided. Inner circle _only_ and to be held at Archie's place, considering his Dad was away and that Jughead was basically living there pretty much permanently now.

Even though Jughead had a sneaking suspicion that his birthday this year would be different from previous years with all of the stuff that had gone down with his Dad and with Betty, he was still blindsided when he found out.

"So, a John Landis double feature at the Bijou - _American Werewolf in London_ and _Animal Farm_ ," Jughead said to Archie later that day in the kitchen at Archie's place.

"That's awesome," Archie replied, looking a little uncomfortable. "Except...you're going with Betty instead."

Jughead's heart plummeted to his stomach and he sighed, frustrated. What the hell was it with his friends and destroying his trust in them? "You told her about my birthday? Dude, come on, that's like a primal betrayal."

"Why do you hate your birthday so much Jug?" Archie asked.

Jughead stopped himself from rolling his eyes at Archie's question. Sometimes, Archie really could be insanely thick. "PTSD from when I was a kid - I don't know," Jughead replied, looking away from his friend, knowing that Archie would be feeling pretty guilty. He shot Archie a glance and he was right. Archie looked _terribly_ guilty. "Things were always so messed up at home, usually because of my dad. And then, there was this arbitrary day, that we would just get together and pretend things were great, we were normal. And it just made me feel really lonely."

"So...things were good?" Archie asked, his eyebrows raised. "On your birthday, I mean."

"Ah...yeah, they were good," Jughead replied with a humourless laugh. "Unless they were bad."

"What do you mean, Jug?"

"It's always been extremes around my birthday - it's gotten worse in the last few years. Now, in the lead up to my birthday, either my Dad's the nicest guy around _or_ he's remembering all those birthdays when we still had Mom and Jellybean here and he gets drunk and beats me up," Jughead explained in a halting voice.

"I guess that would make anyone hate their birthday. I'm sorry I told her Jug," Archie said, "but you know Betty, she's always wants to brighten up someone's day."

* * *

Contrary to what Jughead had been dreading, the party wasn't actually that bad. It really was just the inner circle, a couple of drinks and a cake covered with candles brought to him by an incredibly sensual Betty Cooper singing happy birthday. And even though he would have really preferred that it was just the four of them in a booth at Pop's, it wasn't the hell he'd thought it would be. That was until the doorbell rang.

Archie's house was suddenly flooded by people led in by Cheryl Blossom and Chuck Clayton. Jughead escaped early, heading to the couch in the garage along with Vegas, Archie's dog, to avoid the hoards of people. It had worked so far, until Archie found him.

"Dude, Valerie's here. Do you think she wants me back?" Archie asked. He walked behind Jughead and slapped his hand on Jughead's shoulder. It wasn't rough but it wasn't exactly gentle either.

Jughead could already tell he'd been drinking. He winced at the residual pain in his shoulder and frowned at his friend. "Archie, as my blood brother, it was your sole responsibility to ensure that something like this _never_ happened on my birthday. And now we're here in the middle of a Seth Rogen movie."

"This was Betty's idea, okay? I just went along with it," Archie said, shrugging.

"It's so _not_ me," Jughead sighed.

"It doesn't matter, Jughead, you're her boyfriend now."

"What does that mean?" Jughead asked exasperatedly.

"It means you're getting your birthday party, whether you want one or not," Archie replied, heading for the garage door and quickly stepping aside as Betty came inside.

"Hey, I was looking for you," Betty said.

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why? It's your party Jug," Betty said, she looked disappointed though.

"I don't want... _this._ " Jughead waved his hand in the direction of Archie's house where the party was still well and truly in full swing.

"I didn't know that this would happen, Jug," Betty replied despondently. "I'm sorry, it turned into such a disaster."

"It's not exactly a disaster, you guys," Archie said, trying to cheer the both of them up. It was pointless a second later when FP Jones walked through the door into the garage.

"Happy Birthday Jughead," FP said. He wavered slightly on his feet and grasped the doorframe. Jughead could tell instantly that he was drunk.

"Dad, you need to leave," he warned.

"I can't see my son on his birthday?" FP shot back.

"Not right now, you can't," Jughead replied, keeping his tone of voice calm but firm. Inside he was freaking out, terrified that FP would hurt Archie or Betty. FP had already damaged Jughead beyond belief but he couldn't bear to think about him hitting anyone he cared about.

"FP, I think you should leave too," Archie added.

"Archie, I think you need to shut up and give me some time alone with my son," FP said, moving out of the doorway.

"I'm not giving you anything," Archie replied angrily.

"Archie, stop," Jughead warned, his voice low. FP looked ready to kill and he didn't want his friend in the way if FP decided to act on that intent.

"That's a good boy Jug, you gotta do what your Daddy tells you to," FP slurred.

"Dad, _please_ just leave," Jughead pleaded.

"Sure thing," FP replied and Jughead started to believe that maybe there was a God. Until FP continued with, "Just as soon as your friends here clear out so I can give you a proper happy birthday, just me and my son."

"That's not going to happen," Betty said, she grasped Jughead's hand tightly in her own.

"Hell no!" Archie shouted at the same time.

"Guys, please," Jughead all but whispered. "You're making it worse."

"You're not going to go along with this are you?" Betty asked him.

"Dad, I'll give you five minutes, but _that's it._ "

"Jughead, no!" Betty protested.

"Betty it's just five minutes," he said, gazing deep into her pure blue eyes, trying to convey the second part of that sentence - _What can he possibly do in five minutes?_

"Clear out kids," FP ordered.

"We'll be right outside Jug," Archie said.

Jughead nodded and the two of them left, Betty finally letting go of his fingers as she walked out of the garage. Jughead looked up at his father as the door shut behind them. "Well, you've got me for five minutes. What do you want? Cause I know it's not going to be a stirring rendition of 'Happy Birthday'."

"What have you told the police about the car accident?"

Jughead rolled his eyes - of course his father was only trying to cover his own ass after the accident. "That it was some random Serpent driving. Not you. You're in the clear, if that's what you wanted to know."

"Good, that's good," FP nodded, taking a step closer to his son. Jughead held his ground but he swallowed nervously. "And when are you coming home?"

"To the trailer park?" Jughead asked incredulously. FP nodded. "Are you serious? I'm not. Ever." He knew he was pushing his luck, talking like this to his Dad when FP had clearly gotten into the whisky early.

"Excuse me?" FP's voice got murderously low and a shiver ran down Jughead's spine.

"I'm not coming home. I'm staying with Archie now," Jughead replied, forcing himself to keep the shake out of his voice.

"I don't think that's going to work," FP said. "I need you to fight at the Whyte Wyrm."

"Not going to happen, Dad," Jughead said.

FP nodded and looked away from his son for a moment before striking him, without warning, with a powerfully harsh backhanded slap. Jughead gasped and fell to his knees, his hand on his mouth. He pulled it away and grimaced at the blood from a newly split lip.

"See that's what happens when you say no to me, Jug," FP said with a sigh. "You know the last thing I want to do is teach you a lesson on your birthday but sometimes you just give me no choice."

"Dad, you need to leave me alone," Jughead said, picking himself up from the floor and wiping the blood from his mouth. "You need to realise that I'm not coming back and that I'm not fighting for you at the Whyte Wyrm anymore."

FP didn't say anything, he just shook his head. His silence was even more terrifying than his words right at this point for Jughead. Especially when he backhanded him a second time, sending Jughead to the floor again. Jughead coughed, blood splattering the floor under him but he pushed himself to his feet again.

"You can hit me all you want, Dad, but the answer is still no," Jughead said, hating the way his voice shook slightly.

"Maybe," FP said. He strode forward and grabbed the collar of Jughead's shirt, pulling his son closer to him. "Or maybe I'm just threatening the wrong person."

"What the hell do you-" Jughead was cut off when FP punched him, hard, sending him flying backwards and hitting one of the armchairs in the garage, sprawling to a heap on the floor. Jughead's vision flickered in and out and he shakily tried to push himself up but was stopped by FP's heavy boot on his chest. He grabbed it, coughing and looking up at FP in abject terror.

"Four weeks from now, there's a fight at the Whyte Wyrm. 9:30pm _sharp_. You're either there by 8:30 or I'll find you and drag you there myself. And if I have to do that, then you won't be the only one with a black eye. Your pretty girlfriend might have one too."

Jughead tried to reply but the boot on his chest was forcing downwards on his lungs, he couldn't get a breath in. He started seeing spots in his vision before FP finally moved it, not a moment too soon. He gasped in air and watched, horrified, as his father simply strolled over to the garage door, flung it open and left.

Betty and Archie raced inside as soon as FP left, one each falling to their knees on either side of him.

"Jug are you alright?" Archie asked while Betty gingerly fingered the growing bruise on his cheekbone and his split lip. Jughead looked up at Betty, at her smooth, unmarked face, perfect pink lips and clear blue eyes. But all he could see right then was her in his position - beaten and bloodied. And it would all be his fault.


	20. Chapter 20: Total Recall

**Chapter 20: Total Recall**

"Juggie, please tell me you're okay?" Betty pressed, her hand on his shoulder, gently rubbing, bringing him back to reality.

"Y-yeah, I'm alright Betty," Jughead replied with a shaky exhale. "He just...wanted to say happy birthday I guess, in his own special fucking way." He wiped his chin, frowning at the sticky red blood on his fingers. Betty pulled out a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at his split lip, quickly wiping away the rest of the viscous crimson liquid.

"Goddamnit, I _knew_ we shouldn't have left you alone with him, Jug," Archie growled, uncharacteristically angry.

"Relax Arch, it's not the first time I've been alone with my father when he's drunk," Jughead replied with a grin.

"But it's the first time we could've prevented it," Archie said, growing solemn.

"It's fine, Archie. Please don't blame yourselves over this," Jughead insisted to the two of them, pushing himself up and into the armchair he'd fallen against with a sharp exhale. "I can't deal with you two feeling guilty about this. It's so far from being your fault."

Suddenly they heard a crash coming from the house - breaking glass. Archie rolled his eyes. "I better go check out what's broken now," he said. "You guys will be okay here?"

"Yeah, he's not gonna come back anytime soon," Jughead replied. "He's said what he wanted to say."

Archie nodded and got up, stumbling a little, before heading for the garage door and the house where the party was still in full swing.

"You sure you're alright?" Betty said, getting to her feet and pulling the other armchair closer so they were sitting right next to each other.

"I'm sure, Betts, _please_ I'm fine, all he did was rough me up a little," Jughead said, trying to placate her. Inside his stomach was twisting itself in knots, going over and over what FP had said to him about going after Betty. _Where the fuck did FP get off threatening Betty like that?_ Jughead thought angrily.

"What's going on with you, you're not okay," Betty asked and Jughead sighed. She was _way_ too good at reading him.

"Just...I just hate knowing I'm putting you in danger, having him around," Jughead replied finally.

"I can take care of myself, Jug," Betty said firmly.

"Betty, I'm a reasonably fit 16 year old and _I_ can't take care of myself when it comes to FP," Jughead said.

"17 year old," Betty corrected.

Jughead laughed softly. "17 year old," he said nodding.

"When did all of this start with your Dad? When did it really start?" Betty asked him.

Jughead sighed. He pulled his beanie off for a moment and raked his fingers through his unruly fringe. "I guess it was before Mom left with Jellybean. I was only just fourteen I think?"

"What happened?"

"It was when he and Archie's Dad parted ways over the construction company. I still don't really know what went down with that. Dad said a lot of things about it and it made being friends with Archie a bit difficult for me for a while. I think that was the first time he hit me. I'd come home from school early and I mentioned something about staying over at Archie's place and he just lost it. He only hit me once but I think he was more shocked than I was, to be honest. He apologised, said he'd never do it again, all of that crap you know. Of course that all went out the window when Mom and Jellybean left for Toledo."

"Tell me about it," Betty said.

"Ah you don't wanna know about this stuff Betty," Jughead said weakly.

"I want to know, I want to know what he's done to you," Betty said, her eyes darkening slightly.

Jughead took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly trying to figure out where to start. His first thought was the night Jellybean and his Mom had left.

* * *

It was winter and it was cold. There was already a foot of snow outside and it was still early in the evening. Jughead had been at Archie's working on some school project - he couldn't even remember what it had been. He got home around 9pm to the small rowhouse they'd lived in before they had to move to the trailer park. It was a mess, it looked like a bomb had hit the kitchen. There were pieces of glass everywhere, the smell of beer was enough to make his eyes water and, sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands was FP.

"D-Dad?" Jughead murmured warily. His father had only hit him a couple of times so far, nothing completely out of control just yet.

"They're gone," FP whispered.

"What? Who's gone?"

"Your Mom," came the stifled reply, "and Jellybean."

"G-gone where?"

"Toledo. To stay at her mother's place. They're not coming back Jug," FP looked up, his eyes rimmed red from crying.

A thousand thoughts ran through Jughead's mind. _Why hadn't his Mom said anything? Why hadn't she taken_ him _as well? Did she_ mean _to leave him here? Leave him here with FP? Didn't she realise FP was getting worse and worse, drinking more and more?_

"They're coming back right?"

"No. They're not," FP said. He stood up and walked over to Jughead. He slammed his hand into Jughead's chest, winding him slightly. Jughead looked down to see a crumpled note. He grasped it as his father pushed past him, moving towards the fridge.

Jughead flattened out the note. It was from his Mom. He skimmed it, frowned, read it again and then a third time. They were going to Toledo. They were sorry they couldn't say goodbye. His Mom didn't want to pull him out of school since he only had a handful of years to go. They'd left already and there wasn't anything FP or Jughead could do to change their minds. He was brought back to reality when he heard the fridge door slam shut and the bottlecap skitter across the linoleum floor.

"They left us Jug," FP said, taking a huge swig from the beer bottle.

"I...I don't know what to do," Jughead stammered, setting the note back on the table.

"Get that away from me," FP said gruffly, roughly pushing his hand and the note away. "We're gonna lose the house now. You know that right?"

"Th-the house?"

"There an echo in here?" FP almost shouted, growing meaner with every passing second. Jughead backed away from the table slightly, getting out of arm's reach just in case. "I'm gonna have to join the Serpents full-time. We can live in the trailer park they run, on the Southside."

"You're gonna _what_?" Jughead couldn't help himself. How could literally _everything_ in his life change in one night.

FP swung around in his chair and threw the beer bottle at him. Jughead gasped, and spun away with his arms covering his face, the bottle hitting and smashing on his left forearm, drenching him in beer and a shard of glass slicing through the skin of his arm. FP jumped to his feet, staggered over to his son and, still seeing red, grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the wall. Jughead's heart was beating so fast, he could feel it thumping against the inside of his ribcage. Pressing him forcefully up against the wall, FP backhanded Jughead, leaving him with an angry red mark on his cheekbone. He raised his hand again and Jughead flinched, screwing his eyes shut in anticipation of the next blow. But it didn't come.

The hand on his throat eased and Jughead slowly opened his eyes to see FP sobbing, propping himself up against the wall with his free hand.

"I...I'm sorry," Jughead forced out in a hoarse voice.

FP finally released his hand from Jughead's throat and Jughead drew in a shaky breath, reaching up to rub the soreness from his neck.

"I'm sorry," Jughead repeated in a whisper.

FP raised his hand and Jughead flinched away violently. It made FP sob even more and he grasped Jughead's shoulder.

" _I'm_ sorry Jug, I've screwed this up for...for all of us."

* * *

Jughead rolled up the sleeve of his shirt to show Betty the thin white line that ran across it. The only physical reminder of that night. Betty traced it softly with her fingers.

"That was two years ago?"

"Yeah," Jughead nodded.

"He got worse though," Betty said. It wasn't a question but she intended to get an answer.

"Yeah he did."

"When did that happen?"

"Few months into joining the Serpents I suppose," Jughead said with a shrug. "It was just the occasional backhanded slap when he was angry before but after he joined the Southside Serpents, he got...real bad real quick."

* * *

The worst times always seemed to happen in winter. When trying to escape FP involved an hour-long walk through the freaking _snow_ to Archie's place or the Drive-In. Jughead had come home later that Saturday night after a James Dean double feature at the Drive-In and he was more than ready to just fall asleep in his clothes on the couch. But after tiredly climbing the stairs to the trailer and hearing the sound emanating from inside, he knew he was shit out of luck.

"I don't care who you gotta strong-arm or send death threats to, you need to get the _hell_ out there and get those 20 keys of dope, you hear me?" Jughead flinched slightly at the closed door of the doublewide when he heard his father shouting. He reached for the door handle, snatching his hand back as it was slammed open. He jumped back as a couple of Serpents pushed past him, out of the trailer and down the steps. He almost didn't go in, almost stood out there in cold, sprinkling snow all night.

"Jughead you gonna stand out there and let the cold air in? Or are you gonna get the fuck inside?"

Jughead swallowed nervously and stepped inside the relative warmth of the trailer, closing it behind him and dropping his backpack on the end of the couch.

"You're home late," FP said, from the kitchen, a bottle of whisky in his hand and a full glass in the other. He slammed the bottle down on the counter and walked out into the living room.

"I was working," Jughead replied evenly, "at the Drive-In."

"You bring home any dinner?" FP asked, taking a gulp of Jack Daniels.

"Uh...I...I ate there," Jughead answered.

"You didn't bring anything home for your Dad?"

"I-I didn't know you wanted anything."

"Typical," FP snarled, taking another swig of whisky, practically draining the glass. "So goddamn selfish."

"I-I'm sorry," Jughead stammered.

"You fucking will be," FP warned. He set the bottle down and advanced on Jughead who shrank back. "Do you even realise the _day_ I've had?"

"N-no," Jughead whispered, keeping his eyes trained on the floor. Always better to try and display submission than to fight back - at least, that's what he'd been telling himself for the past six months when his father's violence had continued to escalate.

FP nodded at his answer and polished off the glass of whisky in his hand before slamming the glass down on the kitchen counter. "Are you actually _trying_ to get a beating?"

"N-no Dad."

"That so?" FP laughed and Jughead almost wrinkled his nose at the smell of alcohol on his breath. "Well, if you were, you've succeeded."

Without warning, FP pulled back his arm and punched Jughead straight across the jaw, sending him straight to the floor. "First, I gotta deal with the cops coming into the Whyte Wyrm," FP said, kicking Jughead in the stomach.

Jughead gasped, winded after FP's boot connected with his side.

"Now, cops are bad for business _anywhere_ but when I'm trying to fence dope and keep that bar running, it's just...well it's not a good look," FP said, kicking Jughead a second time.

Jughead screwed his eyes shut tightly, trying to force himself not to cry at the pain in his side but he still felt the tell-tale pinpricks in the corners of his eyes.

" _Then_ I find out that one of our dealers has a better offer from the fucking Scorpions and is defaulting on a regular 20 kilogram purchase so I have to send two of my guys out there," FP continued, his voice raising.

Jughead had never heard his father sound so angry before and his voice literally terrified him completely, chilled him to the bone. He heard FP pull his leather belt from his jeans and he looked up at him in confusion before covering his face and head rapidly as the end of the belt slammed down over his shoulders. He cried out involuntarily as a wide line of agonising pain lit up across his shoulder blades. _This_ was new. His father had never actually belted him before. FP struck him three more times on his back with the belt before he continued, each strike igniting a line of fire on his back and forcing a gasp from his lips.

"And now, you come home, _late_ as usual, without even bringing home any dinner for your dear old Dad," FP growled. He lashed the belt down and this time it landed on Jughead's right shoulder, wrapping around towards his chest. "I guess, I just have to teach you a lesson, you worthless piece of crap."

At that point, he _really_ laid into Jughead. The belt came down again and again, lashing Jughead across his back, his shoulders, slamming against his ribs and collarbone, wrapping around his neck. Jughead could only lie there, on the floor, his arms protecting his head - and getting the occasional blow because of it - as FP kept belting him. And FP was merciless. He kept going and going, until Jughead went limp, until he was just an unconscious form on the ground, moving only when FP lashed him.

Long after Jughead had lost consciousness, FP regained his own mental stability and realised what he'd done. His son, his own flesh and blood, was in a crumpled, bloody heap on the floor, unmoving. Jughead found out later that FP had called one of the Serpents, who worked at Riverdale Hospital in Emergency who'd told FP to just bring Jughead in and he'd take care of him. So FP collected Jughead up, a boneless, bloody mess and carried him out to his pickup. He'd gently laid him on the backseat, driven to the hospital and called his contact who'd come out with a gurney. Jughead was wheeled in and checked out, his injuries cleaned and dressed, before being given a room for the night.

* * *

"And that was the first time that FP sent me to hospital," Jughead finished.

He'd been gazing down at his hands in his lap, so wrapped up in his own memory, that he hadn't even noticed Betty was crying. It looked like she had been for a while too.

"Oh god, Betty, are you alright?" he asked, wiping errant tears from her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, I didn't want to upset you."

Betty sniffed softly and wiped away the tears. "I'm not upset, Jug," she replied. "I just...I never want that to happen to you again."

"It won't," Jughead replied quickly.

"You promise?" Betty asked. "I mean, you won't purposefully _put yourself_ in a situation like you did tonight? Where you were by yourself with FP?"

"Not if I can help it," Jughead replied. "I promise." But even while he was saying it, he was still going over what FP had said: be at the Whyte Wyrm in 4 weeks to fight or FP would go after Betty. He knew he'd be breaking that promise pretty quickly.


	21. Chapter 21: The Third Man

**Chapter 21: The Third Man**

Now that Alice Cooper was helping out at the Blue and Gold, Jughead was starting to see a lot more of her. He wasn't overly worried about it - after all, it appeared that even though she knew bits and pieces of Jughead's tumultuous relationship with his father, she wasn't going to the police to report it, and for that he was more than thankful. They'd had more than a handful of conversations, especially in the Blue and Gold's office, but she hadn't really asked him anything personal _ever_ not since that day at the Cooper's house when she'd seen firsthand the work of FP's belt. He still hadn't even returned to Betty's place after that time - now that he was staying at Archie's, she'd just come over or they'd chill at a booth in Pop's.

The status quo was completely dismantled the week of Homecoming. After Alice's request, Jughead found Betty in the gym, setting up for the dance.

"Hey you," he called up the ladder.

Betty looked down at him with a smile and descended to his level.

"Why didn't you tell me about the dinner?" Jughead asked, a little warily.

"What?" Betty frowned.

"Your Mom basically tackled me in the hall to invite me over to dinner before the dance," Jughead explained. He couldn't help the instinctual search of her eyes to see if she was going to lie to him - it was a bad habit but being constantly in fear of FP had helped him in reading people. "Did you not know?"

"No, no, of course," Betty replied quickly. She looked nervous, which made Jughead nervous but he pushed the anxiety away forcefully - this was _Betty_ for God's sake. "I've just, you know, got so many plates spinning. I'm a little terrified about the social experiment of it all, but I think it's good for you to get to know my family a little more, I suppose."

Jughead couldn't help the nervous swallow but he nodded.

"You look terrified," Betty said softly, placing her hand on his shoulder. She didn't miss the slight shudder that moved through his body at her touch but she gazed into his light green eyes trying to make him feel more secure. Make him feel safe.

"I...I kind of am," Jughead whispered back to her. "Is your Mom...is she going to...she's not going to ask about my Dad right?" he finally got out.

"No!" Betty replied then in a calmer voice continued, "No she would never. I'll make sure of it."

Jughead nodded, mulling it all over for a brief moment before looking up at her. "Alright Betty Cooper, just this once."

"Thank you Jughead Jones," she replied, leaning forward to land a kiss on his lips.

* * *

"I know what you're doing Mom," Betty said, striding into the kitchen with purpose.

"Whatever do you mean?" Alice asked, not looking up from her work, "I'm making peach pie for our guest."

"No, you're laying out some sort of scheme, trying to make Jughead tell you what's going on with his father," Betty countered.

"On the contrary Betty, I just want to make sure that boy of your's gets a proper dinner - I've seen pizza get delivered next door far too often."

"So you're not going to question Jughead about his father? Or about the murder then?" Betty asked.

"Only if it comes up in casual conversation," Alice replied.

"I'm not playing this game with you Mom," Betty said, "and neither is Jughead, not after I tell him what you're planning here."

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Betty?" Alice sighed at her daughter. "When I invited Jughead, he looked so excited. Like it really meant a lot to him that I want to get to know him more. That's all I'm after, honey."

"I don't want you asking him about FP," Betty said firmly.

"I'm sure the topic of Jughead's father won't even come up at dinner," Alice promised before going back to the latticework on top of the peach pie.

Betty retreated from the kitchen to her bedroom, her mind going over every word her mother had said. While Alice was her mother, she was still the most formidable journalist Betty had ever come across. She wouldn't think twice of inviting Jughead over to the lion's den and then grilling him with questions about his father. And she'd probably start by breaking down his resolve with questions about FP abusing him and then following up with a complete interrogation surrounding FP's potential involvement in Jason's murder. It's what Betty would have done if it was her in the interviewer's seat. Even though Betty had never told her mother any details about how Jughead had been hurt, she knew her Mom would have figured it out one way or another.

The last thing she wanted though, was for Jughead to endure the patented Alice Cooper third degree over peach pie.

* * *

"Super delicious, Mrs C.," Jughead said, tucking into the lamb roast that Alice had lovingly slaved over all afternoon - at least that's what she told Betty who told Jughead later.

"I figured it might have been a while since you ate something that wasn't...delivered," Alice replied, choosing the last word carefully.

"I suppose it has been," Jughead replied after a moment and Betty could tell he was getting nervous.

"So you used to work at the Drive-In, is that right?" At Jughead's nod, Alice continued. "It's a shame that it's closed down now. Have you found a new job?"

"Uh, not yet, no," Jughead answered. The only _real_ reason he'd been working at the Drive-In was so he could buy his own food and have a place to sleep when FP got completely unmanageable. Now that he was at Archie's he didn't have to worry about that anymore.

"Ah, you can focus on your studies more then," Alice suggested.

Jughead looked up at Betty, his heart warming. She looked so beautiful tonight in her silver dress. She smiled at him, giving him the courage to keep sitting there, enduring Alice's questions, instead of bolting for the door.

"And your father? How is he doing?" Alice asked, before taking a sip of her wine.

Jughead almost choked on the forkful of salad he'd just swallowed before swallowing roughly and looking up at Betty's Mom. "Uh...he's fine, I guess."

"When was the last time you spoke to him?" Alice asked, her face a picture of innocence.

"Mom, I don't think Jughead-"

"Betty, Jughead can answer for himself, I'm sure."

Jughead's mind instantly went back to the garage at Archie's place when his father 'surprised' him for his birthday and left him with a split lip.

"Archie's birthday party."

"Ah yes, that was _quite_ the party, wasn't it?" Alice replied with a chuckle.

"It sure was," Jughead said softly.

"Do you get on well with your father?" Alice asked.

"Mom, I don't think Jughead's here to be interrogated," Betty warned.

"Betty, it's okay," Jughead said. He knew exactly what Alice was doing, fishing for inconsistencies or lies. He knew half the town thought that the Serpents were behind the murder of Jason Blossom or had something to do with it. Alice was only doing her job as an extremely morally-void journalist. "No, I don't get on well with my father. We have...very different opinions on a lot of things."

"Things like what?"

Jughead sighed and put down his cutlery. "Most things."

"Do you think he had anything to do with Jason Blossom's murder?"

"Mom, that's enough!"

"Do you?" Alice pushed.

"I don't know," Jughead said finally, relenting.

"You don't know or you don't want to know?"

"Honestly?" Jughead asked, at Alice's nod he continued, "I honestly _don't know_. The Serpents have their fingers in a lot of pies and the drugs in the getaway car were most probably from them. I don't know if my Dad had anything to do with it. And yes, I'd _want_ to know if he did."

* * *

So far the Homecoming dance had been fairly mundane, run-of-the-mill. Archie and Veronica had sung 'Kids In America', Fred Andrews had managed to arrive not just with his estranged wife, Mary, but also with Hermione Lodge and Cheryl Blossom was being her typical obnoxious self. Everything changed when Jughead walked out of the gym and into the hallway, looking for where Betty had gotten to and finding the whole gang staring at him as in shock.

"Betty, what's going on?" he asked, his eyes flickering from one of them to the next, trying to discern what had gone down. "Why do I feel like I'm suddenly left out?"

"Do you want to tell him or should I?" Betty asked, she seemed angry.

"Tell me what?"

"We went to your Dad's trailer to-"

"To search it Jughead," Veronica finished, cutting Archie off.

"Why would you guys do that?" Jughead asked, frowning.

"My Mom put them up to it," Betty explained, looking guilty as hell. "She was convinced he was hiding something about Jason. We were wrong."

"All of us," Veronica added, "we didn't find anything."

"And Jug," Archie said, "we were only doing it to prove that-"

"That my Dad wasn't a murderer?" Jughead interrupted, his heart dropping and his stomach rolling. He started to feel physically ill at what he was discovering. "You went behind my back Archie?"

"How did you...when did you guys know to go to my Dad's trailer?" Jughead questioned. Although he was starting to feel like he already knew the answer.

"Betty's Mom told us she'd called him, asked if she could meet him near the Sweetwater River," Archie said haltingly. "She also invited you..."

"She invited me to dinner," Jughead said, shaking his head. "So I wouldn't be able to warn him."

"I didn't know she did that, Jug," Betty implored, her blue eyes glassy. But Jughead was having a hard time believing any of them right now.

"There they are!" The group turned to see Kevin Keller on his way with Archie's parents, Veronica's Mom and Betty's Mom in tow. Jughead dropped his gaze to the floor, he wasn't quite sure he trusted himself not to pounce on Alice Cooper if he was given half the chance. "My Dad just told Mayor McCoy about your Dad," Kevin said.

"What about my Dad?" Jughead asked. _What now_ , he thought, feeling a pit of ice in his gut.

"He was just arrested. For the murder of Jason Blossom," Fred Andrews said sadly.

That was all it took for Jughead's unbreakable exterior to finally shatter. He pushed past the group and ran out into the frigid night air, his suit jacket no match for the bitingly cold wind that whipped past his face. He could take the beatings and the underground fights. But now that FP was arrested? What the hell was supposed to happen to him? It was exactly what he'd been trying to prevent for months now, lying to doctors and nurses in the hospital, making Betty, Archie _and_ Veronica and by extension Fred Andrews and Alice Cooper keep quiet about what FP had been doing to him. And it was all for nothing. Now FP was being arrested for _murder_. There was no hiding his lack of a proper parent or guardian from Child Services now.

He'd turned a corner, heading instinctually for the Greyhound Bus depot to buy a ticket to Toledo or _wherever he could get to_ when a dark coloured van rounded the corner as well. It slowed and then jerked to a stop right next to him. The sliding side door was pulled back and Jughead snapped his head to the side when three guys in balaclavas jumped out.

"What the-" Jughead tried dashing past them but one of them caught his arm, pulling him back and slamming him down onto the road. He landed heavily on his side, his face hitting the asphalt but he was still completely conscious and was still _definitely_ not in the mood to get into that van with these mystery men. He immediately pushed one of them away and struggled to his hands and knees.

"Not so fast," came a voice that sounded ever so slightly familiar. One of the men grabbed his collar and punched him across the face.

Jughead gasped, his vision blurred and he didn't even see the second punch.

The men gathered up a now-unconscious Jughead Jones and dragged him back to the van, throwing him inside. Two of them got in and the third took one look up and then down the street. The buildings, mainly offices and stores were shut up and dark and the pavements were empty. No one had seen them. The third man got into the van and it slowly pulled out from the curb and coasted leisurely down the street, away from the High School, away from anyone who could've helped Jughead get out of whatever situation he didn't even know he was in right now.

 _{Cliffhanger! Sorry about that. The next few chapters are literally the entire impetus for writing this fic. I totally didn't think it would take over 20 chapters to get there but I'm really happy it's followed the actual series. I'm hoping I can keep the story going over the rest of the hiatus and then pick it up and follow the second season too! Anyways, let me know what you think and hit that review button. Let me know what you want to see too. I might just be able to add it in for you...}_


	22. Chapter 22: Bound To Hurt

**Chapter 22: Bound To Hurt**

Jughead came to slowly. The first things he noticed was the throbbing pain in his head that signalled a pretty nasty concussion and the fact that he was cold. He groaned softly, pushing back the nausea that always came hand in hand with being knocked out and that was when he realised there was gag tied around his mouth. He just about jumped right out of the chair he was in and _that_ was when he felt the ropes holding him in place. Opening his eyes just brought more dull blackness with a newfound blindfold restricting his vision. His breathing quickened and grew more shallow and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He needed to calm himself down. He had _no idea_ where he was or who had taken him and then tied him to a freaking chair.

"Are you coming back to us, Mr Jones?" a calm, gravelly voice to his right spoke, making Jughead flinch and whip his head to the side, making him feel even more ill.

Jughead's breath hitched in his throat as he heard the sound of measured, deliberate footsteps moving from his right hand side to in front of him. The man in front of him just stood there for a moment. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach and he swallowed thickly. He heard the rustle of fabric and then strong fingers grabbed the edges of the blindfold and pulled it off making Jughead gasp at the rapid movement. He blinked a few times, clearing his vision and then looked up to see Clifford Blossom.

"Hello Jughead," Clifford said menacingly.

* * *

"He's not answering his phone," Betty said worriedly, her cellphone stuck to her ear, hearing Jughead's voicemail for the fourth time.

"He hasn't texted me back," Archie said, looking up from his own phone.

Their parents were currently in a huddle further down the hallway from them and Betty was completely freaking out, thankful her mother's view was blocked by Sheriff Keller's tall frame.

"We need to find him, _now_ , make sure he doesn't do anything," Betty said.

"Did any of you drive here?" Veronica asked.

"I didn't, but my Mom did and I have a spare key," Betty replied, her eyes lighting up. "Let's go."

Betty, Archie and Veronica snuck away down the school hallway and out to the carpark. Betty scanned the lot and pressed the 'unlock' button on the key fob, taking off at a run when she saw the indicator lights flash on and off as the car unlocked. Archie and Veronica were hot on her heels and the three of them piled into the car.

"Where should we go? The trailer park?" Veronica suggested.

"My place?" Archie added.

Betty stopped for a moment, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, thinking. "Let's go to the trailer park and check in on your place on the way."

"Sounds like a plan," Archie said.

Betty set her jaw and aimed the headlights at the street.

* * *

"You're probably wondering what you're doing here," Clifford Blossom said. "I'm sure you know that I would never _willingly_ want to associate with a Jones."

Despite his current situation, Jughead couldn't help rolling his eyes at Clifford. Clifford noticed, huffed out a short laugh before backhanding Jughead across the face. Jughead gasped, frowning as the backhanded slap brought his concussion back to the fore, his world tilting slightly.

"It would do you well to show just a _little_ respect to the person who has you tied to a chair, don't you think?" Clifford stated, wiping his hands on a silk handkerchief. "Now, as I was saying, you need to be taught a lesson."

That sentence sent a chill down Jughead's spine and he looked up at Clifford nervously.

"I know exactly what kind of 'lessons' your father has been laying down and I suppose this is going to be in a similar vein," Clifford continued, his voice growing dark.

Jughead looked away from Clifford and started to tug at the ropes keeping his wrists both bound together and tied behind the back of the chair he was on.

"But first, I guess I should at least let you ask me the questions you're inevitably bound to ask," Clifford said. He walked out of Jughead's view and moved behind him, making Jughead freeze. He felt Clifford's fingers grab the edges of the gag and jerk it down, out of his mouth so it was now lying around his throat. Jughead licked his dry lips and tried to slow his quick, ragged breathing.

"Why am I here?" he asked, finally, once he felt that his words would be stronger than a whisper.

"Unfortunately for you, you're both insurance _and_ collateral damage," Clifford said simply.

That statement both unsettled and relieved Jughead. If he was collateral damage, he probably wasn't going to get out of here completely unscathed, but if he was also insurance, he wasn't going to be killed - not that he could possibly picture Clifford Blossom _killing_ someone. Although the dingy room they were in - it looked like some sort of large storage room - didn't look too promising. In fact, it looked like the perfect place to conduct a murder or a torture session undetected.

"Insurance against what?" Jughead questioned.

"Against your father. Right now, he's sitting in the police station, confessing to my son's horrific murder."

"He's _what_?"

"He's doing exactly what he's been told to do," Clifford offered without any further explanation.

Jughead took a breath and then asked his next question.

"And the collateral damage part?"

Just at that moment the door to the storage room opened with a creak and slammed shut making Jughead jump. The person who'd entered was still in the shadows but they took a couple steps forward and Jughead gulped. It was Stinger, that asshole Scorpion biker he'd beaten in the basement of the Whyte Wyrm.

"Oh you gotta be joking," Jughead breathed, feeling like the bottom of his stomach just dropped out.

"Funny you should mention that. Stinger here is about to dole it out now," Clifford said.

* * *

Betty was feeling like they were on a wild goose chase. They'd stopped at Archie's and Jughead wasn't there. They'd gone to the trailer park and it was deserted. They'd even gone so far as to step across the threshold of the Whyte Wyrm wearing the homecoming outfits and be met with the stony faces of the Southside Serpents - their leader arrested and his son missing - and they came up empty-handed.

"I don't understand where else he could've gone," Betty said, sitting in the driver's seat as the car idled. She didn't even know which way to point the car at that point.

"Well he wasn't at your place," Veronica said, gesturing to Archie, "he wasn't at the bar, he wasn't at his Dad's place. Where does his Mom live? Why don't we go there?"

"She lives in Toledo," Archie said. "So that's a bust."

"Wait a minute, what if it's not," Betty interrupted. "What if he went to the Greyhound station to get a bus there? Where else could he have gone?" she added at their dubious expressions.

"Alright, let's check it out," Veronica said.

But twenty minutes later they came up empty when they rolled up at the bus station to find it locked up, windows-shuttered and lights off for the night.

"God _damnit_!" Betty shouted, hitting her fists on the wheel.

"Hey, hey, it's going to be okay," Archie said, grasping her hands gently. "We'll find him, I promise. Let's...let's head back to the school, find Kevin's Dad, see if he can put something out over the radio."

Betty swallowed back tears, wiped her eyes furiously and nodded. She pulled the car back onto the road and headed for the high school. All she could think about was Jughead. Making sure he was safe. Making sure he was _warm_ for crying out loud. It was freezing tonight and all he had was his suit jacket and his beanie. _That stupid beanie_ , Betty thought as she turned a corner, one block away from the school, just as the headlights lit up something on the side of the road. She slammed on the brakes, Veronica and Archie swearing in shock, stopped the car in the middle of the road and jumped out.

"Betty?" Archie asked, following her, Veronica behind him.

Betty was kneeling down near the sidewalk with something in her hands.

"What is it?" Veronica asked.

Betty looked up at the two of them, her face horrified and ghost-white. She lifted her hands so they could see what she'd found. It was Jughead's beanie. It was impossible to mistake. And it had blood on it.

* * *

"Clifford, please," Jughead said nervously, failing to hide the shake in his voice. "Please, you don't have to do this."

"Of course I do, my sweet boy," Clifford said. "While your father is... _somewhat_ good at following orders, it always pays to have some kind of incentive there to make sure he follows them right to the letter."

"What makes you think _this_ will work?" Jughead asked, his heart pounding as he watched Stinger crack his knuckles. "He _already_ beats me up himself."

"Oh, I know about that," Clifford said. "But, this is just how we do business. And, when I mentioned to him that you would be punished if he disobeys in any way, he got quite desperate. I just need to show him that I mean what I say. Empty threats are really quite useless."

"Clifford _please_ ," Jughead pleaded, as Stinger took a step forward, pulling brass knuckles out of his pocket. "Let me talk to my Dad. He won't screw anything up for you, I promise."

"He said the exact same thing to me," Clifford said. "But, well, how can I really trust him? It's not like he's a stand-up guy, is he?" At Jughead's frustrated silence Clifford continued. "No, he's not. So the next best thing is to rough you up a little bit and then take some nice ol' fashioned photos of your bloody face and then show them to him while he's cooling his heels in that jail cell. The perfect incentive to stick to the party line."

"Clifford, please don't-"

Jughead's next words were cut off when Clifford tugged the gag back into place. He smiled down at Jughead, his smile was cold, emotionless. It frightened Jughead right to his very core.

"Alright, Stinger," Clifford said, turning to the bikie. "I'm giving you fifteen minutes in here with him. I don't _really_ want any bones broken, that's going to be too hard to explain later."

"Got it, I'll go gentle on him," Stinger said, grinning at Jughead.

"But make it bloody," Clifford said, patting Stinger on the bicep before giving Jughead one last final look. Then he was gone. And it was just Stinger and Jughead.

"Alright kid, I think you've had this coming for a while now," Stinger said, stepping forward, licking his lips. "And I might only have fifteen minutes with you right now but I'm gonna enjoy _every. Single. One of them_."


	23. Chapter 23: Collateral Damage

**Chapter 23: Collateral Damage**

Those fifteen minutes felt like fifteen hours for Jughead Jones, tied up in that storage room in God knows where. Stinger took his time softening him up. A punch to his face followed up by a sucker punch to his stomach and then back to his face, alternating. Jughead counted his lucky stars that he was, in fact, tied to the chair. It meant that Stinger only had a couple places to punish, instead of his whole body but still, it wasn't fun.

"How're you feelin'?" Stinger taunted him, after burying his rock hard fist into Jughead's ribs for the fourth time.

Jughead's chin was on his chest, he was breathing hard, blood dropping from his nose and mouth, despite the gag. Stinger grabbed a fistful of his black hair and jerked his head up. Jughead met his eyes with grim determination.

"Not very chatty, are you?" Stinger said.

Jughead rolled his eyes - well, one of them, his right was quickly swelling shut. It's not like he could talk while he was gagged.

"I heard one of the guys at the Whyte Wyrm beat you not long ago," Stinger said, tightening his grip on Jughead's hair, eliciting a hiss of pain from the teenager. "Heard he pulled your arm right out of the socket and that you let him."

Jughead kept up the eye contact with Stinger although his head was swimming. He'd been hit too many times and all it would take was one more big punch and he'd be out cold. He was hanging out for it at this point. Stinger's hand clamped down on his left shoulder.

"Was it this shoulder?" Stinger squeezed Jughead's left shoulder tightly but Jughead didn't make a sound. Then Stinger finally let go of his hair and gripped his right shoulder. It was still tender, even though it had been a few weeks since he'd dislocated it. Jughead grit his teeth, best he could with the gag. "Or was it this one?" Stinger's fingers dug into his shoulder and Jughead couldn't help the cry of pain that slipped out. "That one, then?" Stinger said, nodding. Jughead didn't react.

"Well, I'm almost done here, Clifford's going to be back any minute, better finish this off, get you a bit bloodier," Stinger said.

He kept one hand on Jughead's right shoulder, holding it like a vice and proceeded to slam his other brass knuckled-fist into Jughead's stomach, side and face. The onslaught of punches was unrelenting and Jughead didn't even hear the door to the storage room open.

"Alright, that's enough, you can leave now."

Jughead was dimly aware of Stinger's hand leaving his throbbing shoulder and then there was a hand in his thick black hair again. It stroked his head before tugging his head up painfully. It was Clifford.

"You're still with us," he said as Jughead wearily looked up at the Blossom patriarch. "That's surprising but good, I suppose because you need to hear this: you don't tell a single soul what happened tonight. If you tell anyone, you're going to wind up dead. Or, alternatively your sweet little girlfriend might be sadly killed. Betty Cooper, right?"

Jughead's heart jumped into his throat when Clifford spoke her name. He swallowed roughly and nodded, as much as Clifford's hand gripping his hair allowed.

"You want to keep Betty safe don't you?"

Jughead nodded again.

"Then you won't breathe a word of this to anyone. Got it? Not your girlfriend, not your ragtag group of friends, _no one_. Otherwise Betty will be the first one Stinger gets to," Clifford promised. "And what he'll do to her will make this look like walk in the park," he added gesturing to Jughead's beaten body. Clifford let go of Jughead's hair and his head lolled forward onto his chest. "Stinger! Get his head up," Clifford said, pulling out his phone. "I need to snap a few photos for Daddy Dearest."

Stinger grunted and jerked Jughead up by his hair. Jughead groaned, his head was _aching_. He closed his good eye, trying to take stock of his injuries.

"No, no, Jughead, open your eyes for me now," Clifford reprimanded. Jughead forced his eye open to see Clifford taking photos of him with his phone. "That's better. You really do have a pretty face Jughead. Pity it's constantly covered in blood and bruises. I'm going to show these photos to your father when I go see him in jail. He'll be more than willing to stick to the story now. And you? If you tell one _single_ person about what went down here tonight, you can kiss your darling Betty Cooper goodbye, you got that?"

Jughead nodded grimly.

"Alright, Stinger, get him out of here. Drop him somewhere he'll be found," Clifford instructed. "And put the blindfold back on. We don't want him leading his little gang of friends back here, do we?"

"Sure don't boss," Stinger said. He picked up the blindfold from the ground and tied it tightly around Jughead's eyes making Jughead gasp as it was tied over his black, swollen eye.

Jughead was vaguely aware of Stinger untying his wrists from behind the chair but he was about ready to pass out. Stinger hooked his hands under Jughead's arms and dragged him out of whatever hellhole he'd been taken to. He was growing weaker and weaker but it was only when Stinger threw him into the back of the van that he finally, blessedly passed out.

* * *

"I just wish we knew where he was," Betty said, her voice raw from crying.

"I know, me too," Archie said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

They were sitting in Archie's garage den, having changed out of their formal clothes and into track pants and pyjamas. But neither of them could sleep, not while Jughead was still out there somewhere. As soon as they'd found his beanie, complete with blood on it, they'd called the cops. The cops had been trawling the city for the last few hours trying to track him down but so far they'd come up empty-handed. Archie and Betty knew this for a fact since Archie's father had made Sheriff Keller promise to bring Jughead back to Archie's as soon as he was found. And so far there'd been no knock at the door.

"They'll find him, he can't have just disappeared off the face of the earth," Archie said, trying to reassure her.

"I guess, it's just-"

Betty's next words were interrupted by a car horn sounding from the street. It was loud, way too loud for 2 in the morning. It sounded again and then they heard the sound of a van door sliding shut and tires screeching as it sped away.

"What the...?" Archie said. "Wait here."

He got up from the couch and ventured to the garage door. "Wait here just in case," he repeated to Betty.

Archie opened the door and looked out at the dark street. A couple of lights had switched on in the surrounding houses but the road was empty. He thought he heard something and frowned. Pulling out his phone and switching on the flashlight he ventured out towards the road. Betty didn't exactly follow him but she didn't wait inside, hanging near the open garage door and running out when she heard Archie gasp.

"Archie! What is it!"

Betty's breath caught in her throat when she ran down to the sidewalk. Jughead was lying there, only barely conscious and covered in blood. Archie was kneeling next to his best friend and he looked up to see Betty's stricken face.

"Oh my god, Jughead," she breathed. "We have to get him inside, it's freezing out here," she said.

"Alright, help me with him," Archie said hurriedly. "We'll lay him down on the garage couch, I don't think we should try to get him up stairs right now."

The two of them gently picked up Jughead's arms and laid them over their shoulders, lifting him to his feet. Jughead groaned softly, coming around as they helped him back to the garage.

"Arch...'sat you?" he slurred softly.

"Yeah, it's me, Juggie, we've got you," Archie replied as they got to the garage door.

They carefully sat him down on the couch in the den, Jughead hissing in pain as injuries were jostled. Archie quickly closed the door, keeping the cold air out and grabbed a blanket for him, throwing it over his shoulders.

"Juggie, are you alright?" Betty asked, falling to her knees beside him and grasping his ice cold hand.

"I am...now," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"What happened, Jug?" Archie asked.

"I...I don't know," Jughead stammered in response.

"Is anything broken?" Betty asked, her voice cracking halfway through the question.

"No...no I don't think so," Jughead replied.

"Let's get you inside the house, do you think you can manage that?" Archie asked him.

"Yeah...yeah I think...I think I can do that," Jughead said. "I'll need your help though."

"Of course, Jug," Archie said.

The two of them helped him back up to his feet and then out of the garage and into the house. Getting him up the stairs took a lot of effort and by the time they made it to the top, Jughead's breathing was ragged and he teeth were gritted in pain. Granted, it wasn't the worst he'd been injured. But it'd been a while since the last time. He'd become complacent, _used_ to feeling fine and free of pain. Being subjected to that beating was affecting him more mentally than physically at this point. Especially with Clifford's threats fresh in his mind.

"I think my Dad's already gone to bed," Archie said, closing the bedroom door behind them.

Jughead and Betty were sitting on the edge of Archie's bed and, in the brighter light of Archie's room, both Archie and Betty could see the damage done to Jughead. His eye was growing blacker by the minute and was definitely going to be swollen for a while. His lip was split in two places and his face was covered in cuts and bruises. Archie ducked into the bathroom and grabbed a clean washcloth, dampening it with warm water. He came back and passed the cloth to Betty who started to wipe away the blood from Jughead's face.

"What happened?" Archie repeated his earlier question.

"I don't know Arch," Jughead replied simply.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Archie pressed.

"I mean...I left the school after your Dad told me that mine had been arrested for Jason's murder and I was walking away going...I don't know, _somewhere_ when these guys grabbed me. They threw me in the back of their van and just...started beating me up. I passed out pretty quickly and I only came around again when you guys found me," Jughead explained.

Archie nodded, processing the information. Betty finished cleaning Jughead's face and she grimaced at the amount of bruises he'd have. She gingerly ran her fingers through his black hair and he tried to suppress a gasp.

"Sorry," he murmured when she jerked her fingers away.

"You've got nothing to apologise for," Betty said, her chin wobbling and her eyes glassy. "I can't believe someone would just... _do_ this to you. For no good reason."

"Were they friends of Jason's maybe?" Archie suggested.

"I don't know Arch, I never saw their faces," Jughead said with a shrug, wincing as his right shoulder flared up.

"Friends of FP?"

"Arch, I _don't know_ ," Jughead said softly. "I'd tell you if I did."

"I know," Archie replied, nodding. He looked down at Jughead's backpack on the floor next to the air mattress and pulled it closer. Rifling through it, he found a clean t-shirt. "You want to get changed?"

"Sure," Jughead replied, as Archie tossed the tee to the bed next to Jughead. He started fiddling with the buttons on his shirt but fingers seemed to have lost all energy and he fumbled. Betty silently brushed them aside and unbuttoned his shirt and loosened his tie for him. She pulled it up, out of the waistband of the pants he'd worn for the Homecoming dance and moved it off his shoulders.

"Oh my gosh, Jug, you're shoulder, did you dislocate it again?" she said, horrified.

Both Jughead and Archie turned to inspect his right shoulder. It was, once again, a mass of dark red bruises threatening to deepen to purple overnight. He moved his right arm slightly, testing the joint. "It's not disclosed Betts. Just sore. I don't know what happened to it," he said, remembering vividly how Stinger had clamped his huge hand down on the joint, bruising fingers digging in.

Betty took his shirt off completely and then gasped again as she saw his torso. It was littered with red bruises. "Juggie..."

"It's okay, I'm okay," he said quickly grabbing the t-shirt and pulling it over his head, gritting his teeth at the pull on injuries everywhere.

"Juggie, you are completely _covered_ with bruises," Betty said, this time with tears rolling freely down her cheeks.

"Not a single part of this is _okay_ Jug," Archie agreed.

"I know that, you guys," Jughead replied. "It's just...I don't know what happened. I don't know who they were. But they're gone now and I don't have any broken bones and I've got the two of you looking out for me. I promise I won't run off again, if _this_ is going to happen a second time," he added, gesturing to his bruised face.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight until the cops find whoever it was that did this to you," Archie said, his face grim and his jaw set.

"And that's why you're my best friend Arch," Jughead said. He caught a glimpse of the clock next to Archie's bed - it was almost 3am. "You reckon we could get some sleep now, though?"

Archie looked at his friend worriedly and Jughead was immediately anxious that Archie had seen through his lies but thankfully Archie nodded. "Yeah, it's probably a good idea. You take the bed tonight - no arguments," he said when Jughead opened his mouth to protest. "Betts, I'll walk you home. Back in a minute, Jug."

"Sure," Jughead said.

Betty leaned in and kissed him on his forehead, one of the only parts of his face that was still unmarked. "I'm so glad you're alright," she whispered.

"You too," he whispered back, kissing her on the lips. And truth be told, he _was_ more than relieved that she was okay. After Clifford had threatened her, the only thing he could think about was finding her broken body the way Kevin and Moose had found Jason's.

 _{A.N. sorry for the really long wait! I had an idea for this chapter but then I'm glad I waited cause I got a better idea! I'm hanging out SO bad for Season 2. I'm hoping to keep this story going through Season 2 as well! Here's hoping they actually put a bit more Jugheadwhump into the show... As always, let me know what you think!}_


	24. Chapter 24: Body Of Evidence

{A.N. First of all I am SO SORRY this took so long to write! I realised the other day that it's less than a week before Season 2 starts! When I first started writing this I kind of decided that I would write pretty much most of Season 1 with this new Jughead angle and hopefully keep myself going until Season 2 started. And now it's almost here! So fingers crossed I can write the last chapter or two of _my_ version of Season 1 before Season 2 starts. Anyway, tell me what you think and I hope you're all still following it and loving it!}

 **Chapter 24: Body Of Evidence**

"What? What happened to him not coming in today?!" Betty whispered hurriedly to Archie as she watched Jughead walk into the school cafeteria. He was limping and his face was covered in bruises but he was putting on a brave front. The cafeteria was awash with hushed whispers as Jughead walked right up to Cheryl's table who stood up, a shocked look on her flawless face.

"I'm sorry, Cheryl," Jughead said quietly. He honestly wasn't sure what he expected her to say but he certainly didn't think she'd slap him and start pounding his chest with her delicate fists. They didn't do much damage on their own but with the rough treatment he'd received from Stinger, it was enough to have him staggering back as the Principal stepped in.

"Enough! Mr Jones, you need to come with me," he ordered. "Right now."

"He was apologising, he didn't do anything wrong," Betty protested, jumping to her feet, even while Jughead stood there silently. "Cheryl!"

"I barely touched him," Cheryl threw over her shoulder as she was comforted by her minions.

It was a good 20 minutes later when Jughead was finally released from Weatherbee's office. He looked drained but not too much more so than usual, Betty thought.

"What happened in there?" she asked, frowning, searching his face for the more detailed answer she knew he wouldn't actually verbalise.

"My second interrogation of the day," Jughead replied. "Don't know who's more of a dick, Keller or Weatherbee."

"Don't listen to them," Betty pressed, "everyone else is wrong. Your dad's innocent, and we just need to prove it, Jug."

The image of finding Betty's dead body flashed into his mind and he forced it away before replying, "Who killed him then, Betty? Tell me. If it wasn't my dad, who killed Jason Blossom? He said he did it, and you kow what? I've been waiting my whole life for that man to do the right thing, and I'm done. You should be too."

Jughead knew he shouldn't be doing what he was doing - pushing those closest to him away. But it was like he couldn't stop himself. He felt as if his entire life was being ripped out from under him and he could either fight it or he could just take the path of least resistance. But it didn't make him feel any better when he got home to Archie's to hear the discussion taking place in the kitchen between father and son.

"Archie my priority is keeping you safe," Fred was saying.

"Keep me safe from who? Jughead? Are you kidding me Dad?" Archie's reply caught Jughead off-guard and his breath caught in his chest.

"No, from whatever trouble seems to follow the Jones' around, wherever they go, whatever they do. Hell, maybe you should go to Chicago and live with your Mom."

"It's not even something I was considering Dad. But you know what? Maybe I should."

"Hey if it'll keep you out of trouble, I'm all for it."

Jughead had heard enough and he stepped into the kitchen, his boot making a loud enough sound to alert the two Andrews men of his arrival. Archie's face fell and Jughead knew that his friend knew he'd heard their conversation.

"Hey Jug," Archie started.

"I'm gonna sleep in the garage tonight," Jughead interrupted. The bruises on his body almost flaring up at the thought of sleeping on the lumpy couch. "Okay?" He didn't stick around for an answer, lugging his backpack and himself out of the house.

Jughead set up camp on the couch and toed his boots off. He wasn't hungry or at least he didn't think he was - his torso was already so sore, he wasn't sure he'd know the difference between bruises and hunger pangs at this point. Laying down on the couch, he pulled the blanket over him. He just wanted to leave this day in his rearview mirror and wake up to a new one tomorrow.

* * *

"Juggie...Jug."

Jughead cracked his eye open to see Archie hovering over him.

"Wake up, we gotta go to Pop's."

The two of them were at Pop's in record time and soon enough were seated in a booth across from Mary Andrews, Archie's Mom.

"Archie asked me to look into your father's case," Mary said. "I went down to the station and passed myself off as his attorney to try to get as much information as I could."

"How's it looking Mom?" Archie asked.

"Well, unfortunately, between FP's list of priors, the anonymous tip, and the possession of the murder weapon-"

"Don't forget that pesky confession," Jughead added.

"Things look pretty bad," Mary finished. "I was with him all night, and he never once budged from his story."

Jughead sighed, wincing slightly at the pull on his ribs. "Well, if nothing else, at least he's an honest murderer."

"Jug," Archie murmured with a pained look on his face.

"Oh, also, who is Joaquin DeSantos?" Mary asked.

"Joaquin? As in Kevin's boyfriend?" Archie asked.

"He was FP's one phone call."

Jughead looked down, studying the worn formica table, trying to decipher why, of all the people in this world, his father would choose to call _Joaquin_.

"Jughead, my advice is to go and see your father. Tell him everything you wanna say. Once he's arraigned, things tend to move pretty quickly and there won't be anything left to do, so this might be your last chance."

Jughead nodded, letting the words slide over him. His father spending years in jail for a crime he didn't commit. Would it be so bad? He could keep on living at Archie's, he would get three square meals a day - and earn his keep, get a job ASAP so he wasn't leaning too heavily on the charity of the Andrews family. And there was always the plus side of not being beaten up by his father constantly or fighting rednecks in a biker bar. On the other hand, his father was innocent.

* * *

Jughead was still mulling over all of this when he walked into the sheriff's station later that day. He wasn't sure what to even say to his father. He figured Clifford would have already sent FP a message about telling the truth using photographs of Jughead's battered face as collateral. But usually it was FP's fists that caused the bruises. God _damn_ he was so freaking conflicted right about now. Would have made for a great novel, if he wasn't already writing what he hoped would be one.

"Jughead?"

Jughead looked up at the sound of his name to see FP getting up from the cot in the jail cell, throwing aside the comic he'd been reading - Sabrina? _Really?_ Jughead thought but didn't say anything.

"Hey Dad, how you doing?"

"Jesus, your face-"

"You know what happened, right? I don't have to fill you in on what your _buddy_ did, do I?" Jughead asked, but he didn't have the energy for his usual acidic, sarcastic tone. "When Archie told me about his little plan to help you - to get you on your feet - and working with Fred, deep down, I knew it was all too good to be true."

"Should've listened to your gut," FP murmured.

"You really had me though," Jughead said, swallowing hard. "Letting me live with Archie, taking a backwards step, I remember you even asking about my manuscript. But meanwhile you're just getting wrapped up in all this crap with-"

"Don't say it," FP interrupted. "I did what I had to do."

"What you had to do? The hell you talking about?" Jughead asked, his voice soft but deadly. "Why? Why the hell did you _have_ to do any of this?"

"I can't tell you Jug," FP said after a pause. "I wish I could. I wish...damnit, I wish I'd done _everything_ better. Instead I got so messed up in so many fucking... _messes_ that other people started. And it's...and _this_ is how it's ended."

"Come _on_ , you can't tell me?" Jughead said. He'd stopped listening when FP had started on the 'I wish I could', the number of times he'd heard lines like that before. "Tell me what the hell is going on. We can figure this out so you're not in here for _murder_." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Especially one you didn't even fucking do."

In a split second, FP reached through the bars of his cell and grabbed Jughead's collar tugging him closer. "Don't say a _fucking word_ like that ever again. You hear me?"

"Let go of me," Jughead said, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"You can't tell a _soul_ what that asshole Clifford Blossom said to you."

"Fuck that! You can't tell me-"

FP jerked him closer and wrapped a hand around Jughead's throat, immediately squeezing, cutting off any breaths Jughead might've wanted to take to, you know, _stay alive_. Jughead grasped his father's hands but they were like steel vices. He choked softly and pleaded with his eyes, trying to beg his father to let go.

"You can't tell anyone. You tell anyone what Blossom told you and they'll kill you. And me. So you don't say a word. You got it?"

Jughead managed a nod and FP finally released him. Jughead staggered backwards and leaned against the wall opposite the cell, doubled over coughing.

"I'm...I'm sorry Jug. I just..." FP trailed off for a moment. "I just don't want you getting hurt."

"You gotta be...fucking kidding me," Jughead said, in between gulps of air. "You don't want me getting hurt? You're doing a great job of it, _Dad_." He pointed to his own, bruised face. "You _just_ got me beaten up as collateral damage. I literally just got hurt because of you. Are you even sorry?"

"Sorry I got caught," FP said with a shrug, heading back to the cot in the cell.

Jughead huffed out a frustrated breath. "We done?"

"Look at me, Jughead," FP said, staring his son down. "Never come back here. Understand?"

"Got it," Jughead said under his breath, before turning on his heel and leaving.

* * *

It was hours later when Jughead and Betty were in the Blue and Gold's office and her phone rang. She picked it up, looking over at Jughead.

"Kevin?" she answered. Her face darkened and she looked worriedly at Jughead. "Uh...okay, we'll meet you there."

* * *

"Whatever it is that we're looking for, Joaquin didn't know if it would help your Dad or make it worse," Kevin explained as they hiked over cold ground, torches out illuminating their way.

"Guess we're gonna find out," Betty replied. "Why did he wait so long to tell us?"

"FP called him from jail, told him to forget about their plan - some contingency plan - he said it was too dangerous," Kevin replied with a shrug.

"Deja vu," Jughead murmured. Having taken the lead in their small group, he waved his torch over the old Blossom Maple Farms sign that had once stood on the side of the road. Jughead bent down to search the ground and then called them over, "Hey! Right here." He pushed aside the branches of an old deadfall, Kevin and Betty rushing to help and Jughead pulled a black duffel bag free of the spindly, entwined twigs. Jughead unzipped the bag and pulled out a letterman jacket. Jason Blossom's.

* * *

" _This_ is meant to help FP?" Archie said, later in his garage, pointing to Jason's jacket.

"I don't know, looks like more incriminating evidence to me," Kevin replied, sounding ominously like his father.

"Yeah, it just confirms my Dad torched Jason's getaway car," Jughead added.

"And that...his confession was true," Kevin said, his voice lower.

"Why would FP say Jason's varsity jacket is dangerous," Betty asked, confused. "What could that mean?"

"If you asked my father, you would know," said Veronica, walking into the garage behind the group, "considering we found concrete proof that he hired the Serpents to kill Jason. Which probably means that your Dad pulled the trigger, Jughead. I'm sorry," she added solemnly, gazing at Jughead. He felt like the bottom had fallen out of his stomach.

Jughead knew Betty was staring at him but he couldn't bring himself to look at her. He felt like he'd break apart into tiny pieces just at the thought of her beautiful innocence ruined by his presence in her life. Her next words startled him back to reality though and reminded him of why he loved her so much.

"No, _no_ , no I'm not giving up yet," she said firmly. She picked up the jacket and turned to Archie. "Put this on."

"What?" Archie baulked.

"Put it on," she repeated, tugging it over his shoulders.

"Betty, this is weird," he protested but he made no moves to stop her. She started checking the pockets while he wore it, Archie frowning - Jughead could tell he was feeling more than a little uncomfortable.

"There's a hole in the pocket," Betty said, her eyes widening.

"Okay, now we're just grasping at straws," Kevin said exasperatedly.

"No," Betty shot back. "I don't know about you guys, but whenever I have a hole in my jacket pocket, I always lose my Chapstick in the lining."

"Or my Mont Blanc," Veronica agreed. "What the hell?" she added as Betty pulled something out from the jacket and held it aloft.

"Nancy Drew strikes again," Kevin gasped.

It was a USB.

* * *

They huddled around Archie's laptop on the couch in the garage and Archie put the USB stick into the laptop. They were silent at first but transfixed by what happened on the screen.

"Oh my god," breathed Veronica.

A tear rolled down Betty's cheek.

Archie frowned at the vision.

Then all at once they gasped, hands covering mouths at what they'd seen.

"Oh my god," Veronica repeated, her voice shaky.

Jughead was as shocked at the rest of them at what was in the video but he wasn't as shocked by who _wasn't -_ his father was nowhere to be seen.

Betty immediately stood up and pulled out her phone.

"Betty," Jughead said worriedly.

"Betty, who are you calling?" Archie asked while Veronica burst into tears.

"You have to get out of that house, listen to me," Betty said to Cheryl Blossom.

"I understand, thank you," Cheryl replied, before hanging up.

* * *

 _That night, Sheriff Keller and Mayor McCoy saw what we watched in Archie's garage. Jason, tied to a chair in the basement of a bar on the Southside of Riverdale while the Serpent, Mustang, taunted him. And, the unthinkable. Later we would learn why my father confessed. Because Clifford Blossom visited him on the night of his arrest with a threat. That I, Jughead Jones, would suffer the same fate as Jason Blossom if my father didn't confess. My Dad was protecting me from a monster and the nightmare was far from over_.

Jughead was still going over the latest pages of his novel and their mostly-true words, when he found himself back at the Sheriff's station.

"He's gonna be charged with tampering with evidence, obstruction of justice, mishandling a body, perjury, and that's just off the top of my head," Sheriff Keller said, his voice raised. "He's not getting out anytime soon."

Jughead argued with the Sheriff but his heart wasn't in it right now. He couldn't say why but after the Sheriff shouted at him a fourth time, he gave up. He threw up his hands and walked out, back to the winter chill, back to Archie's.


	25. Chapter 25: The Sweet Hereafter

{A.N. The final chapter! For now anyway. Since season 2 is starting this week (!) here's the end of this part of the story. If I keep going I might start a new one and make it the sequel to this one, but anyway, hope you enjoyed! And looking forward to season 2!)

 **Chapter 25: The Sweet Hereafter**

Jughead couldn't help himself when he heard about about Clifford's untimely demise. His writing grew ever-so-slightly more sarcastic and pretentious but he didn't care. Clifford Blossom was pure evil. He'd killed his own son and he'd had Jughead beaten up just to keep FP quiet. Clifford was gone. And he wasn't coming back.

But that wasn't the end of Riverdale's problems.

"I told her I wouldn't do it," Betty said. "Not unless you're up there with us, Jug."

Jughead's heart warmed at his girlfriend's words. "I appreciate the righteous indignation, Betty, I do, but Jubilees aren't my thing."

"Jug, how's your dad? Did you get in to see him?" Archie cut in.

"Here's the latest," Jughead replied with a sigh. "Mayor McCoy wants my Dad to name names in exchange for a lesser sentence."

"What? Whose names?" Betty asked.

"The Serpents," Jughead answered. "Sheriff Keller thinks they're the ones dealing the drugs that Clifford Blossom brought into the town."

"My Dad says more and more drugs are hitting the streets," Kevin added.

"Kevin, relax, this isn't 'The Wire'," Jughead shot back but his voice wasn't mean. "My Dad says they're not the ones dealing."

"And meanwhile, Mayor McCoy hasn't even said the words 'Clifford' or 'Blossom' in public, it's all about how the Serpents are the problem, the villains, it's outrageous," Betty said angrily. "I'm writing an article about this, and not just for The Blue and Gold, for the Register. This is a _town story_."

"Okay, as long as the article doesn't include my Dad," Jughead requested. He could just see the skeletons that would come flying out of the closet as soon as anything involving his Dad went to print.

"No it's going to be about your Dad, Jug. It doesn't matter how many Jubilees Mayor McCoy throws. This town's changed. That needs to be acknowledged," Betty announced. "Why are people so afraid of the truth?"

"Speaking of the truth," Veronica began, "Archie and I wanted to tell you-"

"We've kissed a couple of times," Archie interrupted.

"It's okay V, I appreciate you being honest with me, but I'm with Jughead now. If you guys want to be together, I'm happy for you." Betty squeezed Jughead's hand and he smiled at her touch.

* * *

The warm feeling that Betty somehow always imbued him with vanished when he and Archie got home to find Fred in the kitchen with a mystery woman. Jughead couldn't pinpoint exactly _how_ but he knew this meant bad news.

"Hey guys," Fred said, looking mighty uncomfortable. "Uh, this is Ms Weiss from Social Services. She's, uh, she's Jughead's case worker."

"Jughead, I know how terrible and emotional the last few days have been for you," Ms Weiss said, her eyes studying the fading bruises on his face.

Jughead had to stop himself from just about laughing out loud. _That_ was the understatement of the year. His Dad had been arrested, he'd been kidnapped and beaten up by murderer, who'd then been found dead, hanging amidst the barrels of maple syrup - plus his deadbeat father _still_ wasn't getting out of jail anytime soon. But he kept his mouth shut.

"Your father's facing serious jail time, your mom's overextended and out of state. We just want to make sure that you're taken care of," Ms Weiss finished.

Oh no, Jughead thought, his heart dropping. There was only one way this conversation was ending.

"Well, he can keep staying with us, right Dad?" Archie said, frowning.

"I offered already, Arch."

"Great, so what's the problem?" Archie questioned.

Fred sighed. "It was a DUI. After your Mom left. Look, we can talk about this later, but between that and my cash flow problem, it knocks me out."

"There is a family on the Southside that's offered to foster you. They're good people, they've worked with us before," Ms Weiss explained.

"That doesn't sound completely horrible," Jughead forced the words out.

"It does mean you'll be in a different school district, Jughead, and you'll have to transfer schools," Ms Weiss added.

"What the hell? When is all this supposed to happen?" Archie asked, infuriated - much more so than Jughead was letting on that he was.

"The paperwork's been processed. Unless there is a radical change in your father's case, you'll be on the Southside by the end of the week," Ms Weiss stated.

* * *

"Betty's babysitting Polly, mind if I join you?"

Jughead looked up to see Veronica standing in front of him in the cafeteria. "Are you sure you want to sit at the social pariah table?" he asked wryly. Whilst it had been a fortnight since Clifford had him beaten but he still had bruises on his face and literally _everyone_ knew his Dad was still in jail.

"I've been sitting at it for months, why should today be any different?" Veronica replied, sitting down. "By the way, I've been thinking. You and I have a lot in common."

"Oh, because my dad's going to prison and your dad is getting out?" Jughead shot back, not in the mood for heart-to-hearts about rotten fathers.

"We're dating each other's best friends, I was going to say," Veronica said. "But yes, the prison thing, too. Jughead."

They were interrupted by Cheryl looming over them. Jughead raised his eyebrows at her. What part of his face said, 'Please come talk to me, I'm dying to hear what you have to say?' he thought frustratedly.

"I'm sorry. I had no right to pummel you the way I did that day," Cheryl said, matter-of-factly. "As recompense, I'd like to give you this. My iconic spider brooch. It'll catch a pretty penny at the local pawn shop. Enough to keep you in burgers and 'S' t-shirts for years, if not decades."

Jughead caught the tossed spider brooch and frowned at it.

"Cheryl, what is going on?" Veronica asked, worriedly.

Her answer was cut off by Kevin. "Guys, hurry. It's Betty's locker. Come on, it's bad." Jughead's heart plummeted at Kevin's words and he shot to his feet, racing through the cafeteria and school hallways. His ribs were still sore and they ached with every breath but he didn't slow down for a second. His jaw dropped when he saw her locker, covered in the words "Go to hell Serpent Slut" written in blood. He swallowed thickly as he realised the implications of her article and what it meant for Betty and for him.

"Betty," he breathed.

"Hey no, it's nothing Jug, it's just a jerk with a can of spray paint," she said, her words were steady but she still looked shellshocked.

"I don't think that's spray paint."

They left soon after and, walking through the snow, Jughead finally verbalised the thoughts that had been running on a loop inside his brain for the past 24 hours.

"As long as you're with me, you're writing articles about me and my dad, trouble's just gonna keep coming at you from all sides," he said, mentally picturing Betty's ruined locker.

"It was just one jerk," Betty countered.

"It's not just one jerk," Jughead replied with a sigh. "It's Mayor McCoy. It's Sheriff Keller. It's Weatherbee, it's Social Services, it's the entire multiverse telling me that I don't belong here." Jughead thought about how even his father had only wanted him around as a punching bag. "So why don't I just do everyone a favour-"

"Hey, hey," Betty interrupted. "You belong here just as much as everyone else. This is your home - you know that, right?"

"Yeah," Jughead nodded but he knew he'd soon have to break the news to her. And when he did, he knew she wouldn't be happy. In fact she'd be downright furious. And he was right.

* * *

"Hey, where are you? Have you been getting my messages?"

Jughead winced when he heard her frantic tone. "I'm at Southside High. I had to change schools already."

"Oh, my God. What?" Betty replied.

"This is where I belong, okay? Let's talk about this after school. Please don't worry about me," Jughead finished, hanging up the phone.

It was true the first few hours at Southside High hadn't been exactly warming. He'd been shoved in the hallways and given dirty looks by girls and boys alike for no good reason. But word quickly travelled that he was FP Jones's son - the leader of the Southside Serpents and practically royalty to the miscreants in this school-shaped prison. And by the time lunch rolled around, Jughead found himself surrounded by the edgier kids in his year - most of them had fathers in the Serpents as well. They were just as shocked as he was when Archie, Veronica and Betty came bursting through into the cafeteria to 'save him', Jughead presumed.

"What are you guys doing here?" he asked, completely blindsided. He pulled them out to the front of the school to talk, away from prying eyes and ears. "I didn't tell you ahead of time because I knew you would've tried to stop me," he explained gently.

"Damn straight. And I'm still gonna try," Betty said firmly.

"Betty, the Southside is where the powers that be want me. Maybe I wanna be here as well. I may blend in better here," he said shrugging, watching as Betty's eyes flickered to the bruises that were still fading on his face. "And it would keep you safe."

"I'm not letting Riverdale's civil war split us apart, Jug," she said, gazing at him determinedly.

"I don't plan on that happening either, I just want you to be safe," Jughead said. "And that means you need to stay away from me - at least at school," he added.

"Stay away? So you can get kidnapped and beaten up again?"

"Kidnapped?" Jughead almost laughed a little at the word, even though it was completely true.

"It was Clifford Blossom, wasn't it?" she said.

"We have to go! Guys, we have to go!" Archie called out, breaking into their conversation.

* * *

"Cheryl?" Archie and Veronica called out as they made their way through the woods towards the banks of the Sweetwater River. It was heavy going with knee-deep drifts of snow and worry about Cheryl weighing heavily on their minds.

"She's not here," Archie said despondently.

"Over there! Oh my god, she's over there!" Betty shouted, pointing to the frozen-solid river.

Cheryl was standing right in the middle of the frozen river in a white dress, her red hair, a stark contrast.

"Cheryl, stop! What are you doing?" Jughead called out as they moved towards her. Archie pushed him away from the river's edge.

"Wait, Jug! The ice," Archie said.

"He's right. Too much weight, and we'll all go under," Veronica agreed.

"Cheryl, please. Just come to the shore and we'll figure this out together, okay?" Archie shouted.

Cheryl looked like she was about to move when all of a sudden the ice under her gave way and she plummeted into the frozen river.

"No!" Veronica screamed.

"Cheryl!" the four of them shouted, just about in unison.

"The current has her," Jughead said, his heart racing as they all ran out onto the frozen river, looking for Cheryl, throwing snow across the ice, searching. "Spread out!" Jughead added, not wanting the ice to break under them.

"She's here!" Betty shouted and the four of them converged on the spot in seconds.

"Archie, be careful!" Veronica screamed as Archie fell to his knees and started bashing at the ice with his fist.

"Help!" Jughead shouted at the top of his lungs, wishing and praying that someone, _anyone_ could hear them out here.

"Somebody help!" Veronica shouted.

Archie's knuckles had broken open and blood was flying, covering the pristine white snow in red flecks. Finally it broke and Archie was able to pull Cheryl out of the freezing water. She coughed up ice-cold river water and the four of them visibly relaxed somewhat. At least she was _alive_.

* * *

"Sheriff Keller tells me that you still haven't given any names. He's hoping I can convince you otherwise," Jughead said, leaning up against the wall opposite his father's jail cell.

"I've been sweating it out, Jug, and, uh, the only conclusion I've come to is that both options suck," he said.

Jughead swallowed and nodded. He made to leave but stopped when his father spoke again.

"I'm sorry."

"Huh?" Jughead looked up. His father's eyes were clear, he seemed sincere. Jughead supposed a few weeks in a jail cell, far away from any liquor would do that to a person.

"I'm sorry. For what I've done. For hitting you. Making you feel unsafe in your own home. There's no excuse. It wasn't the alcohol or your Mom and Jellybean leaving. It was _me_. It wad all me. And it was fucked up. And I know that, and I'm sorry," FP finished.

Jughead nodded, he wasn't speechless - Jughead Jones would never be _speechless_ , but he was a little shocked. "Hey, I wanted to let you know that I..I'm gonna be okay. I met the foster family that's taking me in. They're nice."

"What about Southside High?" FP asked, visibly relaxed after his speech.

"It's a high school. It's got the jocks, and the burnouts, and the nerds and the like," Jughead replied with a shrug. "But I'll survive."

"You just might," FP said, nodding. Then his tone changed, "Jughead, listen to me. I'm more innocent than I am guilty - with regards to Jason's murder - but I've done some...some stupid things, some bad things, and come what may, I have to answer for my part of it, you understand? I don't know what's gonna happen when this goes to trial, but you need to be there for your mom, for Jellybean. They might not need you right this second, but...they will."

"I'll do my best," Jughead replied nodding.

* * *

Jughead was right - Jubilees were certainly _not_ his thing. But he had to be there for Betty's speech - he wouldn't miss that for the world.

"Good evening, ladies and gentleman," Betty spoke from the lectern onstage. "I'd like to thank Mayor McCoy for inviting me to speak on this historic day. Seventy-five years of Riverdale. But what is Riverdale? It's the people, right? You, me, our friends, our neighbours. Riverdale is Archie Andrews." The audience cheered at Archie's name, having so recently been shown his musical talents. Betty continued, "Kevin Keller is Riverdale. Veronica Lodge, she's Riverdale. But you know who else is Riverdale? FP Jones, who we were so quick to blame for Jason's murder." Jughead felt a little uncomfortable but Betty had mentioned this section of the speech to him earlier and there was no talking her out of it. What he didn't like was the crowd murmuring about FP's inclusion in the Jubilee speech. That made him feel a little nervous, a little wary.

"Jughead Jones is Riverdale, the very soul of Riverdale," Betty said and he looked up at her onstage. Despite the stage lights, she caught his eye and smiled. He hadn't known about _this_ part of the speech.

"Without him, we may not have ever found out what happened to Jason," Betty said. "And yet how do we thank him? By banishing him. Which is what we do when the truth gets too ugly in Riverdale. Truth being that Clifford Blossom was also Riverdale. Riverdale's at a crossroads. If we don't face the reality of who and what we are, if we keep lying to ourselves and keeping secrets from each other, then what happened to Jason could happen again. Or, God forbid, something even worse. Riverdale must do better. We must do better."

* * *

They couldn't get out of there fast enough and, even though, Jughead hated the fact that he could only take his girlfriend to a _trailer park_ , he hoped it wouldn't be too embarrassing. Of course, Betty put him at ease immediately.

"Wow, it looks great in here," she said with a smile that could blind even the sun.

"I cleaned it up after Sheriff Keller thrashed it," Jughead said. "Just in case my dad...Until he gets out."

"I'm not giving up on him, Jug. Hell no," Betty said. Her words made his heart grow so much he almost thought it would burst right out of his chest. He pulled off his beanie - he didn't need that for this next part and turned to her.

That is why I love you, Betty," he said. She turned to look at him, a funny expression on her face - equal parts shock and elation. "I love you, Betty Cooper," he repeated, hoping that he was on the right track here.

"Jughead Jones. I love you," she said and he took two steps and grasped her face in his hands, pressing his lips to hers. Their kiss deepened and then all of a sudden, they were undressing and every single one of Jughead's adolescent and adult dreams was coming true, when there was a knock on the door.

"Oh, my God. Is that your mom?" Betty asked, pulling her top back on.

"Who else would it be?" Jughead replied, throwing a white tee on before yanking the door to the doublewide open.

On the steps were members of the Southside Serpents along with a dog which barked at Jughead.

"Easy, Hot Dog. He's family," one of the guys said to the dog.

"Hey," Jughead said warily.

"Heard your dad could have named names but didn't. Serpents take care of their own," the guy said. "We wanted you to know, no matter what happens to him, however long he's gone, we've got your back."

One of them passed him a leather jacket. "This is yours, if you want it."

Jughead lifted up the jacket, embellished with insignia of the Southside Serpents and shrugged it on. It fit like a glove.

"Juggy?"

He turned to see Betty staring at him in horror at the Serpents jacket on his back. Little did Jughead know that this wasn't the only intense moment that night. A couple miles away in Pop's Chocklit Shoppe Fred Andrews had just been shot by a masked assailant. He didn't know it then, but soon he'd be writing what he knew wouldn't be the closing line of his novel:

 _Imagine this instant, frozen in time. People will look back at this as the exact moment that last bit of Riverdale's innocence finally died. When darkness won. Marked by an act of violence, that was anything but random._


End file.
